


Into the Pit

by SapphireIsle92



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: AU, Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Angst, Blood, Concerts, Drug Use, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Festival, Fluff, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Mosh Pits, Mud, Music, Nature, POV, Piercings, Recreational Drug Use, Skinny Dipping, Slow Burn, Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Tattoos, Work In Progress, metal, mild exhibitionism, mild violence, multi-chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2018-10-20 08:58:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 128,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10659261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireIsle92/pseuds/SapphireIsle92
Summary: **WORK CURRENTLY IN PROGRESS**Warp Fest is an Underground Metal Music Festival held annually near the Boundary Waters in the secluded North American wilderness. After a very rough break up, a friend and coworker of Ian Gallagher happens upon an extra ticket and invites him to take the trip with he and his girlfriend. Ian agrees, knowing some time away would do him some good, but did not expect to find what he did upon arrival. While wandering the festival, Ian meets a mysterious, handsome stranger, a man with a lure he can't explain and a veteran of the festival, having been there many, many times before. As they quickly grow closer, Ian's trip becomes about much more than simply taking a break to enjoy 5 days of music. When not occupied within the festival, his new companion takes to showing him around the land, engulfing his mind and body in new and wonderful experiences that he'd never forget for a lifetime. Everything felt perfect, that is, until it finally came to an end...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Everyone!  
> Welcome to my side fic!  
> I needed something else to work on alongside my main fic, as it seems to really help my creative flow. I AM STLL WRITING HTS, NOT TO WORRY :)  
> Now I'm just writing this one too. :)  
> Please enjoy and let me know what you think of the first chapter! :)  
> Thank you! :)

It was rainy and gray outside the morning they’d left and Ian was not necessarily in the best of moods. Jesse and Sarah drove up in their little green 4-door with happy, excited faces ready to get on the way and he’d tried the best he could to return it with a wave and a chin tip, honestly hoping that maybe if he tried hard enough, his mood may actually brighten. He’d finished his cigarette, then turned to finish stuffing his coworker’s car with his backpack, his small, one-man tent and a little square cooler for his booze, alongside the other man’s bags and a few of his girlfriend’s things. Ian honestly hadn’t planned to go with them on their trip, but with being as stressed as he was lately, couldn’t turn down the offer of a free ticket, knowing that taking a break would probably do him some good, to just get away for a while, to clear his mind and sort his thoughts out. 

The last few weeks had been rough to say the least, especially after everything he’d gone through with Jason. They’d been together almost a year when Ian finally ended things, a year of confusion, lies and hurt. He’d had enough and finally put his foot down about it all, no longer wanting to be used, betrayed and taken for granted. But as relieved as he felt about finally being free of such heartache and stress, such mistreatment, he still couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed in himself, for not being able to keep another relationship together, again, even if he hadn’t exactly been the one to ruin it. Ian’s dating history had honestly never had many highlights and nothing ever seemed to stay good for long. That’s just the way it’d always been, though he still just couldn’t get used to it. 

But then one morning Jesse came into the diner at the beginning of his shift in a rather excited mood, all smiles with a swift bounce in his step, humming some harsh metal melody behind his lips, lost to all but himself when he’d finally burst and told Ian his news. There was an underground music festival occurring far across the state lines, all the way up near the boundary waters, with several bands performing that no one had heard of and thousands of people gathering from all over the country to attend. Jesse had gone before and he and his girlfriend had scored tickets to go again this year, happening upon an extra as well, immediately offering it to Ian. They’d become friends since Ian started working there, Jesse being the only coworker of his that he actually liked enough to interact with outside of work. Jesse even mentioned to Ian, alone and quietly, that he’d been thinking he could use the time away as well, to just let loose and forget about everything else for a while. And honestly, the redhead didn’t take much convincing, knowing how right he was about that.

So, he’d made arrangements with his boss to take off work at the diner for the following week, who didn’t hesitate in giving him the days he needed off as he was always a good, reliable employee, never had any issues and just advised that he try to relax and have fun while he’s away and come back refreshed, ready to work. Of course, Ian gratefully agreed. 

As they drove Ian sat in the back the entire way, wedged between his sleeping bag, another cooler that belonged to Jesse and more of his girlfriend Sarah’s shit who sat up front with his coworker beside her at the wheel. The redhead plugged his ear buds into his cellphone, tipped his head back, closed his eyes and just tried to enjoy the drive, as cramped and compacted as he was, just trying to forget about everything else that’d been so irritatingly bothering him for so very long.

Warp Fest was to last 5 days from start to finish and even though Ian didn’t know all the bands, he had vaguely heard of a few, but enjoyed the genre over all and thought it sounded like it could actually be fun, if he gave it try. The entire festival was being held on a large piece of private land that was mostly field and forest area, very, very secluded from the rest of civilization which was an appealing aspect to him as well, just being that far away. The every day stresses of home had been starting to get to him, really get to him, eat him, nag at him no matter how hard he tried to keep everything leveled and managed. So, he was really just hoping this little trip would help. He kind of needed it to. 

It didn’t take them longer than the better part of the day to finally make their way far enough north that the roads turned into dirt, the sun was high and gleaming, the streets and buildings of the cities began to disappear and they began to submerge themselves within the shadowy, peaceful embrace of nature. They drove into a thick, green brush of trees, carefully moving along the narrow strip of earthen road, deeper into the seclusion, farther into the forest, enveloping them within. The redhead plucked his ear buds from his ears and leaned forward with parted lips to gaze out the window and let his eyes travel amongst the trees, simply taking in their beauty, their endlessness. Slowly he began wrapping his cord around his phone, eyes still peering through the glass at his side and slipped his cellphone away into his pocket. He raised an eyebrow just slightly and tilted his head.

“You sure we’re going the right way?” Ian asked curiously, his eyes still wandering, searching, “Kinda quiet out here,” he said. Jesse began to nod, glancing over at Sarah who had a map spread across her lap and a forefinger hovering over it. 

“This is it, right babe?” asked Jesse, to which she nodded as well. 

“Mmhmm,” hummed Sarah, then looked up with a squint and pointed vaguely ahead, “There should be a clearing a few miles in where we can park the car,” she explained. 

Ian sat back, keeping his eyes fixed out the window, then turned to look ahead through the windshield as they slowly made their way through the woods along the dirt, the sounds of rolling gravel, twigs and sticks popping and snapping beneath their tires as they went. After a little while, the redhead noticed the faint humming of another engine and twisted around in his seat to see another car had appeared behind them, driving in the same direction. He turned back around, beginning to hear and feel the vibrating bump of bass cutting through the atmosphere around them and rising up into the seats of the car, then leaned forward once more to look through the front window. Just as he did, the beginning of a clearing appeared, parting into bright, sunny sky from between the trees in front of them, beaming down upon their vehicle as they passed through it and washing away the shadows that’d been draped around them. 

They emerged atop a hill that overlooked a large, flat field with one small section of it packed tightly with cars, trucks, a few RVs and other vehicles. Another area, out along the tree line was speckled with tents, small makeshift shelters, and a few more campers just beside a trail that split into the trees, leading into another field the held the stages that all of the bands would be performing on. There was a mirage of shifting, mixing bodies all scattered about, some still pitching tents as others unloaded their vehicles and a large group of more began trickling down the trail and into the trees or out to mingle across the field. Ian had known the festival was going to be quite large, but looking around at just this part of it, this looked simply huge. He shifted around in his seat a bit, then combed his fingers back through his hair, trying not to get too nervous or anxious. This was supposed to be fun, right?

They followed the stretch of graveled dirt down along the hill into the cornered area of field where so many other vehicles were parked, sliding carefully into a spot along the far edge that was hugged by another tree line and turned off the car. Ian fumbled with his giant, fluffy roll of a sleeping bag, shoving his way past it to open the door and emerge to finally stretch out his stiffened limbs. Jesse and Sarah got out as well, and Ian took another long sweeping glance of the land around them, still trying to take it all in, feeling the boom of speaker base within the ground that should otherwise be still and quiet, then turned back to help unload the vehicle. 

“It’s beautiful out here,” Sarah breathed taking in a deep breath of air, then reached to heave a large, pink bag of hers out from the trunk and swing the strap of it across her body, “Even with so many people,” she laughed lightly. 

“Yeah, big turn-out this year,” Jesse replied with excitement in his voice, also taking a glance around at all the people still gathering and wandering about, “Should be a good time,” he said. 

He and the redhead began pulling various bags and such from the car as well, each swinging on a backpack, grabbing a tent in one hand, then reached to grasp the handles of the larger cooler and began walking to cross the vast spread of field toward one area where other tents had already been pitched. Ian opted to make a second trip for his own cooler, along with his sleeping bag, just wanting to help get his friends situated so he could take a walk by himself to check everything out.

They found one empty patch that was just the right size for the tent that Jesse and his girlfriend would be sharing, but there wasn’t quite enough room to fit Ian’s personal little rectangle anywhere nearby. He stopped and took a long, studying gaze across the area, then suddenly spotted a small space several yards away and gave his two companions a quick flick of his head in the same direction. Jesse gave a nod and Sarah gave a smile, then Ian released his side of their cooler, placing it near their tent space in the grass before moving to weave through all the other little shelters to claim the empty patch before someone else could. He made it and exhaled a sigh of relief as he wiggled out of his backpack and began to pitch his tiny, orange tent. When he got it up, he threw his backpack inside, zipped it closed, then made his second trip back to the car for his cooler and sleeping bag, and tucked them away inside it as well. He then stepped carefully back over to Jesse and Sarah who were just settling in and gave a pointed flick of his head toward the pathway into the woods, now reaching into the pocket of his jeans to retrieve his cigarette pack. 

“I’m gonna go take a look around,” Ian informed them, pulling a cigarette from the box in his hands and placing it between his lips, “Wanna go see what’s through there,” he gestured with his brow as he pushed his smoke pack back into his pocket, then felt over his other one for his lighter. The other man took a glance toward the woods as well, then looked back at Ian. 

“Wandering off already, huh?” Jesse asked in a bit of a teasing tone, “Not even gonna stick around for a few minutes first?” he grinned and raised his eyebrows. The redhead flicked his lighter at the end of his cigarette, lighting it and pulled a drag with a chuckle and a head shake. 

“You expect me to be a third wheel for five fucking days?” Ian quipped back lightly, tipping his chin at Sarah who simply looked over at her boyfriend and smiled. Jesse chuckled as well, nodded in understanding, stealing a glance at the pretty, young woman next to him, then looked back toward his friend with a shrug. 

“Alright, just uh, don’t be a stranger, huh?” he suggested, “Don’t just get smashed and pass out somewhere,” Jesse laughed, “Or get lost in the fucking woods,” he grinned. Ian pulled another drag and very playfully flipped him off just before blowing his smoke down at him.

“Fuck off,” Ian shot back with no heat in his voice, then turned to begin walking out across the field toward the other tree line, speaking over his shoulder as he did, “I'll check in, man!” he called, “Don’t fucking worry,” Ian chuckled out with another head shake, already feeling much lighter being so free and far away from Chicago. He was finally getting his break and he was going to try and make the most of it in whatever way he could. 

As he crossed the field, he let his eyes continue to wander through the people around him while assessing more of the surroundings that he’d be occupying for the better part of the next week, eager to discover what all was here. He followed the current of bodies and the growing thrum of music, passing by other festival goers who were also settling in, some firing up grills and others laying out blankets in the grass to sit and lie upon, all mingling with others in a murmur of laughter, excitement and conversation. Each person he passed who happen to make eye contact flashed him a friendly smile and in some cases brief expressions of greeting just before passing him by, giving off a much friendlier impression than the rest of their appearances did. 

As he looked around, he saw people with all different shades of bright bold hair colors, people wearing spikes, straps and chains, even people with their faces and bodies painted. He saw a lot of black clothes and band t-shirts, lots of pierced faces and tattooed limbs. He wasn’t intimidated, but some of the sights were new for him, having never really been one to socialize in this way or with this particular group of people. Ian noticed a woman with a shaved head, largely stretched earlobes, a bull ring in her nose and an intricately drawn tattoo splayed along her scalp sitting in a lawn chair beside a camper. He also saw a young man with a long, black beard and a bright blue mohawk pass in front of him, crossing over to the woman with a bong in his hands, offering her a hit from it. Ian smiled a bit, glancing around seeing that no one seemed to care a single bit about the presence of drugs or other substances and pulled another drag from his cigarette as he began to enter the wooded trail to pass through into the other field. 

The pathway was long and narrow, with most people staying in stride along it, though many more had scattered out into a spreading speckle within the trees. He looked around some more, trying to remember whatever he could just in case he did happen to have a few drinks and ended up stumbling back through this way. Even though it was still fairly early in the afternoon, among the scents of smoke and grills that lingered in the air, he could smell wood roasting somewhere in a fire pit as well and began to squint around some. He could see a fire burning within a circle of bodies much deeper into the woods on his left and smiled a bit once again when the sounds of their happy, drunken cheers reached his ears and he turned his head once more. 

A bit of a ways away, he saw a young man and woman, both with pale skin and jet black hair seated atop a fallen tree, passing a metal pipe back and forth between them, the crisp, subtle smell of weed wafting away from them and floating across Ian’s nostrils. He didn’t mean to let his sight linger, but it did, drawn into them for some reason that he couldn’t put his finger on. The man looked around Ian’s age, but was clearly a bit shorter than he was, with thick round arms and a wide, broad chest, the girl beside him much smaller, skinnier with pursed red lips and a big, silver hoop sparkling in her nose. The girl flicked a lighter over the end of the pipe to take a hit, held it within her chest for just a second before she pushed it all out with a sudden single huff and began to cough rather loudly. The man saw her actions and abruptly burst out into laughter, pointing and watching as she struggled to catch her breath, then took the pipe from her to light and hit himself. He held his pull deep inside his lungs, then exhaled a thick cloud above his head and laughed some more, just as he turned his face toward the trail, and happened to catch Ian’s gaze. 

The man paused for a moment with a crease in his brow and a bold blue stare suddenly appearing quite tense at being watched and stared at by some random person, but held his sight as well. The redhead swallowed and was almost the first to look away, when he saw the girl beside the man finally caught her breath, and whacked him roughly on the arm, pulling his attention away first. Ian didn’t linger in his pace or in his pause, quickly turning his attention back to the trail, continuing on with the flow of people coursing along the one side of it and kept on his way. He stayed in pace, smoking his cigarette down to the butt, then crushed it on the bottom his shoe to stuff away inside the top of his pack, simply not wanting to litter, and kept moving, walking slowly and brushing shoulders with the other bodies at his sides until he reemerged out into the sunlight. 

On this side of the trail, the field looked quite different than the first. It was even bigger than the one he’d just passed through, much more open and vast, with thicker walls of tree and bush around the edges. There were more colorful patches of tent villages, a few areas covered with large overhead canopies, shading the churn of crowds beneath them and several lines of vendors with their own booths set up or smaller canopies covering their spaces, selling and trading all manners of merchandise. Ian could see three enormous stages, two closer together with one a bit further off on it’s own, each clustered and huddled with speakers, lights and equipment, and each sure to give quite the show after nightfall. One stage already had a band performing on it, with a deep, harsh pound of bass booming out from the big square speakers beside it, entertaining a mildly sized, casually head-banging crowd.

He saw people here and there that had pulled out instruments of their own and simply sat and played with others who’d brought their’s as well, rocking out with newly made friends. The redhead noticed a small group outside a tent with another small fire pit just beside them, one man clutching a large funnel with a long, curling tube attached to the end of it. Ian observed the man lean over to another next to him, temping him with an urging elbow and raised his other hand that held a beer. The man receiving the offer happily nodded, placed his mouth on the end of the tube and sucked the beer down through the funnel as his accomplice poured it on in. When the man finished, he coughed a bit, but his entire group cheered for him and Ian couldn’t help but laugh as he shook his head and walked some more. There was activity in all directions, and things to see absolutely everywhere and Ian wasn’t even sure where to start. The next five days were going to be the perfect distraction, he just knew it. 

He decided just to stroll about quite randomly really, still just getting comfortable, now taking a closer look at some things as he passed them. There were a few different merchants selling handmade clothing and jewelry, others that were selling fresh food and cold booze, all clearly very untaxed and under the table just like the entire event seemed to be. He came across several drug dealers as well, all very openly advertising their products, trying to reel in customers looking to take a trip, which didn’t really seem like a hard thing to find, noticing many people perk up and suddenly search for their wallets the instant the heralds and offers cut out through the air beckoning their attention. The people here were definitely looking to party, that was for sure.

He paused beside one table in particular and began eyeing some of the jewelry that was on display, particularly fond of some of the bracelets and necklaces that had dragons on them. Ian had always had a thing for dragons. He ran the tip of his finger over a large silver dragon skull that dangled at the end of a long, thin chain, then glanced over to his bicep and smiled down at the winged, fanged beast of his own that he had inked into his arm. They were pretty fucking cool. Green eyes fell back to the necklace to look it over for a price tag but frowned when he found it. He’d brought a bit of money with him to spend, but that was a bit much to blow on one single thing, so he thought it best he not. Ian let a small huff pass through his nose, then began looking around at some of the other pieces. He took two steps to his right, reaching out for a particularly neat looking bracelet, when he suddenly bumped into someone who was standing in his way. 

The man turned around with a hard glare on his face and Ian had to swallow, forcing down a bundle of nerves that’d caught in his throat. It was the man he’d seen in the woods just a short while ago, sitting and smoking with the young girl who’d nearly hacked her lungs up on a hit. Now being right in front of him, he could see his features much more clearly and the redhead tried not to stare as he gazed over his face for a second. His eyes were blue, really blue and his gaze was bold and intense, piercing right through him and squeezing his breath from his lungs. His hair was much darker up close, smooth, spikey strands of pitch sticking out in all directions and his eyebrows were sharp and cut, arching high as his expression pressed into his face. Ian saw an industrial bar stuck through one ear, a helix ring in the other and a brief flash of tattoos along his skin, but not really able to see what, not wanting to awkwardly pause to take a closer look. One eyebrow was pierced with a small black stud and he had another small, silver one in the center of his lower lip. And when Ian noticed the second piercing, he paused on his lips for just an instant, trying not to lick his own at how soft and pink they looked. He met the man’s eyes again, and took a step back. 

“My bad,” he offered, trying to be polite and pressed his lips together. 

The other man held his glare for a long instant, gave him a short sweeping glance, tipped his chin in acknowledgement, then moved to step around him and back into the moving shift of people nearby, disappearing among them. Ian watched him walk away, and gave a small shake of his head, as if willing away a daze, then turned back toward the table to once again reach for the bracelet that had peaked his interest just a moment ago. It was another dragon piece of a scaled, roaring beast, curling around itself, fastened to a thin, leather strap and he smiled when he found the price tag for this one, finding it much more affordable. Ian then walked further down the table and met with the vendor who was an older woman with long, red dreadlocks and three big rings in her lower lip, paid for the jewelry and clasped it around his wrist. He then parted the booth with a satisfied grin and a departing nod, and he was back on his wandering way again. 

He strolled up and down several more lines of vendors and passed many, many more people. At one point he’d gotten caught in a bit of a congested area and the foot traffic had slowed way down. Normally in such a situation, he’d have been irritated or annoyed, but he wasn’t here. Some of the people beside him who’d been slowed down as well had pulled out a joint to smoke between them while they waited and upon noticing Ian crammed alongside them, met his eyes and offered it over, to which he quite happily accepted and shared with them as they all very slowly crept forward. He was going to relax and he was going to have a good time, something he kept reminding himself and so far, it was working pretty well. Then the surge began to move again, their steps quickened and he’d separated from them with quick chin tips and fist bumps, before he teetered away alone with a really good buzz.

The sun was beginning to dim just a bit as he eventually made his way closer to one of the stages that had an amp and a beat that pulled at him in such a way that he just couldn’t ignore it, letting his head bob and bang lightly along with the others around him, just feeling the music. He lingered near the back of the crowd for a while, watching the guitarist on stage whip around a long mane of rich, blonde hair and scream into a microphone, then began looking over the mob in front of him. Closer up near the stage, just a few layers of people away from the fence that wrapped around it, he noticed a mosh pit beginning to form, watching as about half a dozen men began ramming into one another and shoving each other about. Ian couldn’t help but laugh thinking how stupidly ridiculous it seemed, yet how incredibly fun it appeared as well, seeing how routy yet good spirited they all looked to be, everyone simply having a great time.

He kept his eyes on the pit, still just grinning at the display of friendly-tempered animosity and simply tried to enjoy the mild high he was riding from the joint he’d smoked, when suddenly he saw a flash jetted pitch move in a quick, swift motion through the mix and his ears were struck by the most luringly infectious laugh he thought he’d ever heard. Ian squinted a bit, trying to peer down closer into the rough shoving of people and found the very same man, just as before, the same man from the woods and the same man from the booth, yet again right there in front of him. He hadn’t seen Ian yet, obviously, and was quite clearly distracted, having rather good time, laughing with a wide cocky grin as he threw himself about into other moshers with hard, sharp elbows and brutal shoulder smashing. He looked intimidating to get next to, easily dominating the chaos, but loving every second of it. 

The redhead couldn’t help but stare at the man, unable to look away from him, the smile on his face growing as he did though he wasn’t really sure why. He didn’t even know the guy, yet here he was standing across a crowd of people gazing over at him all the same, simply enjoying watching the man enjoy himself so much. Ian also honestly thought the man was quite handsome and observing him within his element like this was rather captivating to watch. As the music rocked harder, so did he, swinging himself sideways and throwing himself around, slamming bodies with the other men tangled inside the pit, laughing again while he did so and head-banging all the while. 

He kept up through a few songs before he appeared to work up a bit of a sweat and began to simmer down, gradually maneuvering himself toward the side of the shoving, twisting mangle, and through the surrounding blanket of crowd out to the back closer to where Ian was still standing. He had a sleeveless shirt on that looked to have some sort of zombie or some other freakish looking, undead creature plastered across the front of it and baggy black pants that tore off under the knees and bore two thick, large chains from his hips that hooked back above his tailbone. Ian could see some of his tattoos a bit better, but not well, noticing some type of skull etched into one of his biceps, a wolf? on one forearm and a cusp of flames whisping up his other all the way to his elbow. He could see more marks of ink that he couldn’t really make out that crept out from along his shoulders, around the back of his neck, and along his ribs, as he was able to see through the long, wide, torn sleeve holes of the other man’s shirt. But Ian couldn’t tell what they were, only that they were coming from whatever artwork he obviously had inked into his back. The redhead tried not to stare much longer at the man just a few paces away watching him still trying to catch his breath with a lingering smile still stuck to his face, but just as he began to turn his head, their eyes met yet again. 

Both men quite visibly paused, suddenly paying no attention to anyone else around them for just a moment. The dark haired man very obviously hadn’t expected to look up and suddenly come face to face with Ian again, especially not when there was such a large number of people here, this now being the third time in a just a chunk of several hours. The redhead shifted his feet and swallowed as the other man gave him a very unsure and very questioning look, keeping a firm stance and face, but just slightly raising an eyebrow at him. Ian wasn’t sure what to do, but suddenly felt a little nervous and didn’t want to have some awkward stare-off so he didn’t hesitate to avert his eyes, flashing them back toward the stage and turning his face away, now resuming his own, jamming, laid back movements. The other man held his sight on him for just a few more seconds before turning away as well and disappearing again. Ian took a deep breath and exhaled. 

He stayed around for a few more songs himself, falling back into a groove, even moving closer into a surge, simply bouncing and shifting with everyone else, letting the bass pulse through his body and fill his mind with it’s wonderfully deafening fog, it’s haze, it’s trace and let all else be lost. It was wonderful, and exactly what he needed, grateful that he’d chosen to come along and not stay at home to dwell. He wore himself down a bit, so he weaved back through the crowd toward it’s outskirts with a big, wide smile on his face and a pant in his lungs, slowly wandering away from the stage area and back into the rest of the festival. 

Since he’d been gone for a good portion of the day, it now being the beginning of the evening and the sky now starting to dim just a bit more, hinting at dusk with a blushing, orange hue, he began to make his way back toward the trail. Ian thought it may be good to make a quick trip back through to check in with Jesse and Sarah, mostly to save his buddy the possible trouble of wandering around the festival trying to locate him later. He didn’t entirely blame Jesse for feeling the need to do that though, knowing the man has seen just a bit of the kind of person Ian used to be when he’d finally left the club and began working at the diner, all of the impulsively destructive tendencies he used to have. But Ian also knew that he was different now, that he’d changed and knew his limits. He didn’t need a babysitter, but that’s honestly not how he saw it anyway. Jesse was a friend simply looking out for him and he knew that too. 

So, he made his way back through one field and down along the trail following each shift within the masses and eventually got back into the first side of the event space that they’d arrived in. The redhead walked over in a confident stride, still feeling the buzz from the weed that’d been shared with him along with the pleasurable rush of endorphins he’d gotten from simply strolling, dancing and enjoying himself. He was in a great mood. Jesse and Sarah were seated within the mouth of their tent, legs outstretched, bodies close together, each holding a beer and sharing light conversation. He took a glance toward his tent as he approached and saw it just as he’d left it, causing him to hold his smile and his mood as he stopped his steps beside their tent and tipped his chin down at them. 

“Hey,” Ian greeted, then titled his head and gave his friend in particular a very sarcastic grin, “Just checking in,” he said and Jesse laughed in response, nodding with humor.

“Yes, I see that,” he retorted, returning the other man’s expression, “I appreciate it, man,” said Jesse, then glanced toward Sarah who simply gave Ian a small smile, then sipped on her beer bottle. The man beside her looked back up at the redhead and creased his brow a bit, “You’re not already back here for the night are ya?” he asked, “The stage shows are cool as fuck when it gets real dark,” he informed with insistence, but Ian just cut him off with a head shake. 

“Fuck, no,” he replied with a scoff, “Like I said, just checking in with your helicopter ass,” Ian chuckled, then glanced back toward his tent and flicked his head, “And grabbing beer,” he added. Jesse pushed out his lip with approval and nodded again. 

“Sounds like a good plan,” he said, then took a sip of his own beer and tilted it toward him, “Just try to keep a handle on it, ya know?” Jesse suggested in a friendly, yet serious and cautious tone, “Take it slow,” he suggested, and Ian couldn’t help but roll his eyes just a little. 

“I’m cool,” the redhead insisted with a flat cut of his palm in front of him and firm raise of his eyebrows, “It’s all good, man,” he assured. The other man pushed his lip out once more, raised his beer in acceptance, then took a long swig, swallowing with a hard suck through his teeth. 

“Well good,” said Jesse, “Have a good fucking time then,” he smiled and Sarah raised her beer in toast as well and took another swig herself. 

Ian gave a final nod and a quick, slick smirk, then stepped around their tent space to make his way back through the others to his own before kneeling down, pulling the zipper open and crawling inside. Within his tent, there wasn’t much space, but enough for him to sleep comfortably, even though he couldn’t even spread his arms out fully at his sides. It fit his height at least however, even giving him about a foot of extra space below his feet when he was laying down. Two people could even fit with a bit of a squeeze, if they had to. 

When Ian got inside, he didn’t waste any time in rolling out his sleeping bag, removing his clothing from his backpack, twisting around within the tiny orange space to arrange them rather sloppily beside his little, square cooler, and settled everything within the space. He pushed most of his things up near the top in the spot above his head space, then curled his legs around to fold them and look through the rest of his bag a little more. He had some weed with him, packed into an emptied altoid tin, along with a glass pipe of his that swirled blue and green, but turned purple when you smoked from it, as well as rolling papers, an entire carton of cigarettes and a few spare lighters. He kept all of that hidden away within his backpack, the only change he made being to add a few beers to the mix, careful that the glass of their bottles didn’t clink together too much. He then zipped the bag closed and began to crawl back out of his tent, zipping closed behind him. When Ian arose, he simply hooked his arms into the straps of his bag, hitched it up, making sure it sat comfortably along his back, then set his eyes back on the trail, setting off once again.

He walked back through the trail, into the main field and decided to take another stroll through the merchant’s tents and traders' booths, moving back toward a corner that wafted out a luring bouquet of mouthwateringly delicious smells coming from people cooking food and grilling meat. Ian felt his stomach twist and rumble out a protest having not eaten all day long, but quickly conceded, not wanting to fight his hunger and began searching through the tables for something that looked appetizing. 

He slowed his steps beside a man turning over corncobs and bratwurst atop a smoking, spitting grill and licked his lips as he watched him skewer a sausage with a meat fork, slide it into a bun, then handed it over to another man who was standing nearby in wait. Ian’s stomach growled again as he patiently waited his turn to speak with the grill master, stopping at the end of a line that’d formed beside his booth. When it was finally his turn to place an order, he made brief eye contact with the man behind the table, reached into his back pocket, ready to retrieve his wallet and pointed his brow down toward the bratwurst. 

“How much for one of those?” Ian asked, enjoying the tangy, roasting smell of the spices that were packed inside the sausages. The man at the grill glanced back over to him, seeing him reach for his wallet, then gave a quick shake of his head.

“Don’t take cash, man,” he informed the redhead who creased his brow and cocked his head with a bit of confusion. Then the man tipped his chin and made a gesture at him with his elbow, looking back down at the food cooking in front of him, “Whatcha got for trade?” the man queried instead.

Ian pulled his face back, pushing his wallet back down into the seat of his jeans and thought a moment. He almost pulled his bag from his back and offered the man a beer, but sort of wanted to try and stretch them out over the next few days if at all possible, when he suddenly had another idea. He reached into his pocket with his other hand, retrieving it’s contents and held up his cigarette pack instead, knowing he still had the whole rest of a carton on his back and arched an eyebrow in question.

“You smoke?” Ian asked with a curious smirk. The other man leaned over a bit, squinting at the brand label stamped over the box, then returned his smirk and nodded. 

“Sure,” he replied looking back down at the grill to poke at one of the plump, brown sausages with the tip of his meat fork, then shrugged an elbow at him, “Throw me down a couple and I’ll toss ya dog,” the man offered and Ian nodded, beginning to pull about four cigarettes from his pack, watching as the man grabbed a bun, wedged it open with his thumb, skewed a bratwurst with the fork in his other hand and slid them together. 

He exchanged his smokes for the food with a polite expression of thanks, then Ian turned away and eagerly sunk his teeth into the end of the hot, steamy, savory sausage, licking his lips, chewing slowly and enjoying the settle quickly spreading through his guts. And he just kept walking as he practically gobbled the whole thing down, both with the intent of drowning out his nagging appetite but also just enjoying how good it really tasted to him. Ian didn’t know if it was the food itself that really just tasted as incredible as it did, his sudden rising ache of hunger being cured or simply just the buzzing, flowing haziness that he still felt from the bud he’d smoked earlier, merely tricking his taste buds into a delightful little euphoria. Though either way, Ian really didn’t care and just ate it all the same. It was pretty fucking good.

As he finished up his sausage, he’d still kept his feet moving all the while, letting his head begin to bob once again to the booming beat of base, emitting from one of the stages, before finally swallowing down the last spicy, juicy bite then reached to light a cigarette. But just as he did, the redhead noticed a young woman walking beside him with an unlit cigarette of her own dangling from her lips and a desperate, searching expression on her face, peering around at others beside her. Ian reached out and gave his lighter a flick causing her to jump and look over to meet his gaze. She then smiled, gave him a quick nod of thanks and lit her smoke with his offered whisp of flame, then they each gradually re-immersed within their separate flows of crowd, becoming strangers again.

The atmosphere here was comfortable, easy, open and it was hard not to just relax and completely forget about everything back home. It was still new and still different, but in the very best way. It was perfect. He kept noticing different pairs and small groups of people wandering off into the trees in several different directions, making him wonder if there was possibly even more to be seen out here than the vast entirety of the event displayed before him now. His curiosity was peeked, but thought perhaps he’d save his need for such dense exploration until tomorrow at the earliest and just continue to enjoy where he was now. 

He slowed some as he smoked his cigarette, lingering near a booth that was packed with beer kegs and had three long lines extending from it. There was a sign displayed above it offering beers for a dollar and Ian immediately understood why the lines were so long, but then suddenly had a bit of a hankering himself. 

The redhead pulled a thick hit of smoke from his cigarette, then exhaled and swung his backpack off of one shoulder, pulled it over his chest and zipped it open to reach inside with a small clinking of glass. He extracted a beer of his own, closed his bag and replaced it along his back, slipping his arm back through the strap, then reached to give the bottle cap a twist. 

Just as he tipped his head back to take a long, satisfying gulp, he also peered vaguely out toward another stage, not really paying much attention in his movements as he took a step to toss the cap into a nearby waste bin and suddenly bumped into somebody again. 

“What the fuck, shithead?!”

Ian went wide eyed and trying not to cough too much as he choked down his swallow, whipped his face around and met the bright, blue eyes of a man standing next to him with a frustrated look on his face. The redhead tightened his jaw to ensure it didn’t drop the instant he realized that this man was the very same damn one as before, the odds simply striking him with a shot of shock. He was holding a small plastic cup now about half full with beer, it clearly having been spilled during the jolt of contact as he saw the cold frothy liquid now trickling and dripping from the fist that held it and he quickly raised his own empty one to apologize. 

“Fuck, man, I am so sorry,” said Ian trying to sound as genuine as he truly felt, honestly not meaning to bump into anyone at all, let alone this guy, “Wasn’t fucking paying attention,” he explained, accepting his guilt. 

But the man’s eyes only narrowed as they flashed over his face, instantly realizing that he recognized Ian as well. He gave him a very quick up and down, holding a firm stance and cocked his head. 

“You got some kinda fuckin’ problem, man?” he shot out with a bit of heat and accusation in his voice. The redhead dropped his shoulders a bit and raised an eyebrow.

“Excuse me?” Ian asked back, honestly confused, but the man didn’t back down, merely holding his glare and tipping his chin up at him.

“What’s your fuckin' problem, man?” the dark haired man rephrased with more insistence. The other man blinked, then opened his mouth and closed it, really not knowing what to say, before he slowly raised an eyebrow once more. 

“I’m really not sure what you’re talking about,” Ian replied with a bit of a light chuckle, trying to show the man that he came in peace and meant no harm, but he still looked him over quite skeptically, eyeing him closely, his tongue twisting along the inside of his lower lip just before he chewed it and tilted his head again. 

“Tell me why the fuck no matter where I look today, your big, red ass keeps poppin' out at me,” the man directed tipping his chin once more and creasing his brow a bit more deeply, “Why the fuck do I keep seeing you everywhere?” he asked. 

The redhead hesitated for a second, understanding what the man meant, having noticed himself how often they’d seemed to somehow keep ending up in such close proximity of each other, but as far as he knew, such happenings had been purely accidental, just like now. He took a sweeping glance around him, upturned a palm and shrugged. 

“It’s crowded?” Ian offered innocently, really having no other explanation, but the other man didn’t seem to accept that response quite so easily. 

“Yeah,” he said, “It is fuckin' crowded,” the man agreed, “Really fuckin' crowded,” he took a small step closer, “Which is why I don’t fuckin' understand why the fuck I keep runnin' into you,” his eyes narrowed even more and he held a hard, defensive posture, “Sure don’t seem like just some fuckin' coincidence,” he said, “You fuckin' followin' me around or some shit?” the man accused in a harsh tone, but Ian simply pulled his face back, screwing it up into an incredulous expression, then dared to actually laugh.

The other man’s eyes went wide, astounded and surprised that the redhead was suddenly laughing at him and didn’t look very happy about it, watching as he punched out loud noises of amusement and clutched his chest. Ian didn’t want to insult the man, but he was quite surprised himself. Did this man think him some stalker? He tried to calm, seeing the dark haired man still bearing a very serious expression. 

“Somethin' fuckin' funny?” he snapped out, still staring at the other man as he collected himself, his filled, soaken hand squeezing the cup within it while his free one slowly curled into a fist. Ian quickly shook his head and tried to make sense of what the other man just said. 

“With all the shit going on around here, you think that because we happen to see each other a few times, that I must be following you?” Ian asked, speaking with his empty hand, then took a sip of his beer, “Kind of a leap, don’t you think?” he wondered out loud, then tilted his head with a very sarcastic yet slightly suggestive expression, the weed speaking for him just a bit and he arched an eyebrow. 

"That kinda thing happen to you often?” the redhead smiled lightly, causing the other man’s expression to suddenly flicker with just the slightest hint of uncertainty and he seemed to fall into a bit of a loss for words, clearly not expecting such a response to his assumption. 

Ian held his stance, still floating on an unusual wave of confidence, pulling a large drag from his cigarette, and taking a small sip from his beer, then exhaled, his eyes never leaving the man in front of him who began chewing his lip once more and still hadn’t spoken again. He gave the other man a brief glance up and down, still waiting, when the dark haired man finally parted his lips to speak, but was interrupted by another voice, pulling both their attentions away. 

“There you are, fuckface,” a young girl’s voice exclaimed with mild annoyance, “Why the fuck do you always gotta take off before I even finish talking?” 

Ian looked past him as the other man turned around, both now looking toward the sound of the voice that’d just spoken. It was the same girl he’d only gotten a glimpse of before, who’d been sitting in the woods beside this man smoking a bowl, whom he’d noticed when he’d first walked through the trail. He could obviously see her much better now, clearly noticing a bright, hot streak of pink hair woven among her long, flowing waves of pitch. She had glittery, black shadow brushed thickly around her eyes that each flared out fans of long, fluttery lashes and a small septum piercing nestled snuggly beside her nose ring, a monroe that shimmered atop her upper lip and ears lined with many more. The girl wore a black halter top that only covered her breasts, but had thin, lengthy tassels that hung down over her stomach, a ring in her bellybutton peeking out from just above the top of her torn, jean shorts. One of her arms was covered in a sleeve of thorned rose vines and Ian could make out a pistol, like a revolver inked into the front of her hip, sticking out from the top of her shorts as well, among a few others on her legs and other arm that he didn’t pause to look at too closely. The young woman looked a bit rough and kind of intimidating, but Ian thought she was quite pretty all the same with big, blue eyes and pursed, red lips. 

She set her sights on the dark haired man who simply rolled his eyes as she approached, hardly reacting much more as she shot a thin, pale arm out to hit him in the shoulder much as she had before for laughing at her smoky struggle in the woods, though he did promptly flip her off in return.

“Asshole,” she said with a huff. The man merely cocked his head, pressed his lips together and pulled his eyebrows up into a high, irritated arch.

“The fuck you want?” he asked with another snap, his voice laced with a bit of heat. The girl crossed her arms over her chest and stuck her chin out. 

“Well before you disappeared like a douche bag, I was gonna ask you to get me a beer too,” she explained then gestured a hand toward the keg booth, “Since you were already fucking coming this way,” said the girl, but the man just gave his head a firm shake and scoffed. 

“I ain’t wastin' my fuckin' money on you, bitch,” he replied, the annoyance in his voice becoming much more thick, causing Ian to raise his eyebrows a bit, but still remain silent, “I’m not runnin' any fuckin' errands for ya either,” the man said, then looked down at his half empty cup and sucked his teeth, “You can have this shit though if ya fuckin' want,” he offered holding the still drenched cup out toward her a bit, causing her to step back and screw up her face, “Gonna need to get a fuckin' new one anyway,” he said. The woman looked from the cup to his face and upturned both palms.

“What the fuck?” she asked with a frown. 

The man holding the beer frowned as well, just as Ian had a thought that might correct it, and placed his cigarette between his lips, slipped his arm out of his backpack strap and swung it back across his chest to zip open. The man and woman in front of him both turned at his sudden movement and watched as he pulled two bottles of beer from the bag, then pulled the zipper back closed. He readjusted it along his back, and held the bottles out to them in offering. 

“Does this make amends?” Ian queried with a small questioning smile and a curious raise of his eyebrows. The dark haired girl looked from the beer, then up to his face, before trailing quite appealingly down the length of his body, the hint of a smile pulling at her lips and cocked her head toward the man next to her.

“Why don’t you introduce me to your friend, Mick?” she asked still looking him over, now biting her lip and shooting the redhead a flirty smile, still speaking to the other man, “Kinda fuckin' rude to keep this one hidden away,” the girl said and Ian tried to return her comment with a polite smile, as unawkwardly as he could manage it, a bit distracted by how much he liked the other man’s name, 'Mick,' trying not to smile any wider and risk looking like an idiot. The man at her side scoffed again and looked over at Ian in a very unimpressed manner.

“Ain’t no fuckin' friend,” he corrected, “Just the dipshit that spilled my fuckin' beer,” he said, still annoyed, but with a little less heat, seeming to have accepted that even though it was fucking irritating, that it was an honest accident. But he still held a firm, stubborn stance and wasn’t quite bending just yet.

Ian pulled his lip down, showing his teeth, giving them both a small expression that admitted his guilt before trying to smile a bit once again and gave the bottles of beer a small wiggle, still holding them on outstretched arms. The dark haired man didn’t move to take one, still just staring at him, appearing almost hesitant in accepting it. But the girl just glanced between them, nudged the shorter man with a hard elbow, earning her a tempered, heated glare, which she simply ignored as she flashed the tall redheaded stranger another smile and reached to grab one herself. 

“Quit being a dick and take the fucking beer, Mick,” she said, “He’s trying to fucking make up for it,” she added, then held her smile on the other man as she took the bottle and began to twist it open, “Thank you,” the girl batted her eyes at him and winked, which the dark haired man rolled his own eyes at. Ian smiled back at her once more, then moved his eyes back to the cautious yet handsome man in front of him who still hadn’t moved. The redhead gave his head a tilt and wiggled the bottle again.

“Just a peace offering, man,” said Ian, “Sorry I spilled your other one,” he added, his voice still genuine. 

The other man gave him a final sweeping gaze, let his shoulders drop just slightly, then scratched his nose with the back of his thumb, before at last, he reached out and took the beer from him. He then looked down at bottle he now held in his hand, ran his thumb over the label and looked back up. 

“Thanks,” he said quietly, appearing as though he wasn’t used to receiving such a gesture, still perhaps a bit skeptical of the motivation behind it, but kept his expression hard. Ian nodded in response. 

“No problem, man,” the redhead replied. The other man held his eye contact for just a short moment, while Ian desperately struggled to think of something more to say, just wanting to speak to him a bit more, still feeling strangely drawn into him, when the woman standing next to him suddenly spoke instead. 

“So, are you up here with anyone?” she asked, “Cause I could sure use some company,” the girl informed him with another extremely suggestive arch of her eyebrows and a playful cock of her head, long, black locks falling to one side to drape over her shoulder, a single streak of bright pink hair, popping out among them. 

Ian tilted his own head and parted his lips to speak, trying to think of a way to let her down gently when he suddenly heard yet another scoff come from the man beside her and he saw him roll his eyes again. 

“What about Ryan?” he countered in a cocky tone, “Ya know, the dude you’re fuckin' up here with,” he elaborated. The woman scoffed as well and stuck her nose up at him. 

“Do you see that shithead around here anywhere?” she asked back gesturing around them with her arms, looking over at him like he’d just said something stupid, “Asshole took off the second we unloaded the van,” she said, then flipped her hair and looked back up at the redhead, “So, how 'bout it huh, handsome?” she flirted.

Ian noticed the dark haired man screw up his face with disgust at the woman’s demeanor, then looked away to chug down his half-cup of beer. The redhead then looked back down at the girl, held a small smile and lightly shook his head. 

“I don’t think I’d be the kinda company you’re looking for,” Ian replied lightly. The woman looked into his face, creasing her brow a bit at his words, but let her eyes fall back to his chest and her face smoothed back out. 

“I beg to differ,” she retorted and the redhead couldn’t help but notice the other man shake his head in disapproval just as he swallowed the last of his beer, crushed the cup inside his fist and belched. Ian looked back at the woman in front of him and figured that he ought to just be blunt.

“I’m gay,” he revealed, causing the woman to look back at his face. 

In the same instant, Ian saw the dark haired man’s face suddenly snap back toward him, eyes landing on his face, slightly widened as if he wasn’t entirely sure of what he’d just heard, but the redhead simply pretended not to notice it, along with the distracting little flutters suddenly clouding inside his lungs for some unknown reason. The black haired woman looked quite surprised, almost stunned as she took a step back and read over his face, slowly processing his words. Then she blinked a few times and smiled a bit. 

“You’re kidding,” she said with a bit of a giggle, then looked him over once more, pushing out her lower lip and raising her eyebrows, still surprised, “Well that’s too fucking bad,” the woman admitted. 

“Kind of a shame,” she continued, then flashed a small glance toward the other man, who immediately looked away from it, refusing to meet her eyes and she giggled again, “You’re gonna end making some dude pretty fucking happy,” she praised, then pursed her lips over her smile and took a sip of beer. Ian chuckled lightly, returned her smile and tipped his chin.

“Well thank you,” he replied quite sarcastically, sneaking a glance toward the other man once more, seeing him no longer looking in Ian’s direction, but instead turned away to toss his crushed beer cup into a nearby waste bin. The redhead swallowed and pulled a deep, thick drag from his cigarette, then gave a pointed flick of his head. 

“Well I’m gonna get going,” said Ian, tipping his bottle toward them in departure, seeing the other man finally look back and meet his eyes, each lingering for just an instant before breaking from each other. 

“Alright,” the girl replied, “Better go find my fuckhead of a boyfriend anyway,” she said, Ian chuckled again and gave a nod, then tipped his chin once more toward the man she’d called Mick, who hesitated again just slightly but returned it all the same. 

“Maybe I'll see you guys around again,” said Ian. The young woman smiled once again with a nod and shot him another wink. 

“I sure hope so,” she said. The redhead held his expression and looked back toward the dark haired man again, just feeling the need to say this one more time. 

“Sorry again, man,” Ian apologized, “Enjoy the beer,” he pointed. 

The other man gave a chin nod, ran his tongue back along his lip, then thumbed it with the pad of his finger just before he pointed back at him and raised his eyebrows. 

“Just don’t be lurkin' the fuck around anymore, alright?” the man directed and Ian smiled a bit wider with a final nod and a promising expression, causing him to drop his hand with acceptance.

Both men’s eyes lingered for a final long moment and Ian watched as the other man’s gaze trailed over him in a slightly different, yet still very guarded way before turning back toward the direction the girl had come from with her following behind him. Ian watched them disappear within the forever moving morph of people and paused just another moment before turning back around to be on his way as well. 

Then as he walked away, his smile seemed to stay stuck to his face, along with thoughts of a mysterious blue eyed man now dancing along the back of his skull, seeming to overwhelm all else, feeding the flutters and turning his mind light and airy. He didn’t know anything about the man, not a single fucking thing, not a thing except for 'Mick,' but that didn’t stop his brain from flooding, swarming, filling with the hope and possibilities of seeing him again. Ian wanted to get to know the man, if there was any way he could. He wanted to see him again, talk to him again, just be around him again somehow.

And although he wasn’t sure just yet how welcome such an attempt would be, knowing he’d probably just have to be patient, to wait and see if the opportunity simply arose again on its own, not wanting to push or force fate, it still didn’t sway his optimism. Ian was going to see him again, at least, he really, really hoped he would.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 is up! :)  
> Sorry for the delay, so many distractions, but here it is!  
> Really hope it doesn't feel rushed. I really tried to keep a steady flow.  
> Still needs some editing more than likely as well, but nothing too bad.  
> Hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think! :)

As dusk began to set with a dimmed spread of indigo flooding across the sky, leaving just the slightest hints of sunlight lurking with a soft, subtle glow gently blanketing the horizon, Ian continued to stroll quite casually about the festival, calm, relaxed and lightly sipping his beer. His eyes and feet kept moving, simply entranced in everything around him, loving how absolutely captivating the entire atmosphere felt and it was just wonderful. So far the day seemed to be going pretty well to say the least, and he just hoped that when night fully fell, he’d still feel the same, especially looking forward to the stage shows that were scheduled to take place later on.

Ian also still had that same black haired, blue eyed man on his mind that had now begun lingering quite persistently along the edge of his thoughts, dancing playfully through his skull and distracting him a bit. Though it’s not that he really minded too much either, honestly. He’d been intrigued each and every time he’d seen the man and his interest and curiosity had only seemed to peak after speaking to him, even if it had only been briefly. The redhead still held a bit of hope that he’d run into him again, because he sure would like to get to know him better, know 'Mick' better, in some way. Ian smiled lightly at the thought, pulled a few more drags from his cigarette, then took a bigger, more satisfying gulp of beer and exhaled with a light, airy feeling filling his chest. There was plenty of time for all kinds of possibilities, after all.

He found himself lingering around those who sat simply playing music on their instruments from home, quite impressed by some the talent he was finding, bouncing his head softly and lightly grinning all the while. He saw people engaged in other activities as well, like one girl he’d spotted in a bikini top and a short, sparkly skirt twirling three different hoolahoops around her neck and limbs, lost in her own little trance. The redhead also passed a man with long dark hair and arms covered in thick, bold tribal tattoos, flinging around two flaming, steel balls, each fastened to the end of strong, silver chains, whirling them about, painting the air around him with flamey trails of smoke. He’d attracted a small gathering that’d formed around him, those with impressed, smiling faces, all sucked into his red, hot performance. Ian paused himself for a bit to watch, finished his cigarette and swallowed his last gulp of beer, then dropped the filter through the spout of the bottle to extinguish with a small sizzle and tossed it into a trash can. 

He lurked around the same area for a short while longer, seeing a few other people entertaining more around them with their own unique acts of show, expressing themselves freely in such a seemingly comfortable way. The festival definitely had a different feel and look to it in some ways than Ian thought it would. It was much more diverse than simply a mob of, darkened, gothed-out faces, some people over in this part of the field wearing a bit more color than a lot of the rest, some even sparkling with glitter and sequins. But everyone seemed to blend together just the same, mixing into another peaceful mingle of bodies and Ian simply continued to move within one of it’s flows, still calmly enjoying himself as he went, his eyes continuing to travel.

Then there was suddenly a split second when his eyes seemed to catch a glimpse of something that made his chest squeeze in a really uncomfortable way and his feet stopped dead in their tracks. Ian squinted through the shift of bodies, trying to pull faces apart searching for what and who he thought he’d seen, but instead found nothing of the sort at all. He creased his brow with a bit of frustration, wondering if his mind was trying to trick him and combed his fingers through his hair. The redhead gave a few blinks, then looked away and began moving his feet again, trying not to let the sudden prickle of distraction linger on his mind too much. 

He kept his pace with the people around him, slowly making his way toward yet another stage that had another band setting their equipment up atop it and Ian tried to keep his attention on them as he neared, still trying to ignore the growing nag in the back of his mind. He knew he’d must have been seeing things, being absolutely sure that there was no way the person that he thought he’d seen could possibly be up here, so very far away from Chicago, just like he was. The redhead gave his brow a rough rub, then slipped a hand down into his pocket to retrieve another cigarette and his lighter, then went through his typical motions of placing one between his lips and lit it to smoke. He breathed in deep, then exhaled with a rough, hard puff. 

For just an instant there, Ian had been sure he’d seen Jason, his ex and his guts twisted with disdain as images of the man’s face flashed through his mind. They’d been split for a few months now, but Ian still had absolutely no desire to be anywhere in his vicinity, still holding quite the grudge for how his ex had treated him and why he’d finally had to end it. He didn’t even like thinking about Jason, let alone somehow be forced to see him, as such things never failed to frustrate him and now was no different. But still, he tried to silently insist to himself that his mind had just been playing tricks on him and it hadn’t been the first time that’d happened, so it wasn’t an inconceivable possibility. There was no way he could up here, just no way and he tried to feel sure of that as he pulled another drag from his cigarette and stared ahead at a stage hand untangling wires to plug into an enormous amplifier resting along the far edge of the platform. Ian wasn’t going to let that shit kill his mood, not if he could help it and pushed the thought away.

He stayed near the back of the crowd, still making slow steps as he saw each band member get into place, adjusting their instruments and microphones, preparing to begin. The crowd kept it’s churn, suddenly shifting more quickly with excitement as the band tweaked their equipment with sharp sudden plucks and beats, while a line of bright, white lights gave a quick, strobed flash above them and spun around into position. The mob pushed closer to the fence at the front of the stage, their voices of cheers and hollers began to erupt, the lights gave another flash and the lead singer gave his guitar a loud, thick thrum and leaned forward toward his mic to blast it with a hard, high scream. Then they began to play some harsh, brutal, pounding song that immediately split the crowd into a swarm of jumping head bangers with a growing speckle of twisting, shoving mosh pits spread out among them.

It was quite the sight to see, and Ian slowed a bit more, beginning to grin and bob his own head a bit, shifting his focus between the performance on the stage and the crashing waves of bodies in front of it. The redhead continued to smoke his cigarette, weaving his way though the other people who were also straggling along the back, just wanting to keep moving, not quite in the mood to stop yet. Then Ian turned his head back, taking a glance forward when his feet suddenly stopped again. 'What the fuck?'

Just a few feet away, facing the stage and engaged in conversation with a few people standing beside him, he saw the very man that he’d been trying to convince himself that he’d simply imagined just a short bit ago. Standing just that short distance away stood a tall, tan young man with a chiseled jaw, an uncomfortably cocky smirk pressed into it and dirty blonde hair pulled up into a messily arranged bun atop his head. He was a man Ian despised and a man he’d always hoped he’d never have to see again; Jason, his good-for-nothing ex-boyfriend. 

He hadn’t seen him since they’d officially split, when Ian had packed his things and moved out, though Jason had tried contacting him afterward, several times. He’d ignored every single text and call until Ian had been forced to change his phone number. But even that hadn’t quite been enough. Jason had gone as far as showing up at his work, only a week later, but when he’d tried to make scene and Ian began to fume, Jesse had been the one to step up with a few rather harsh choice words and sent him on his way. Jason had just kept saying that he wanted to explain, but Ian had been done for a long time and just didn’t want to hear it. The redhead clenched his jaw as his brain replayed everything this man had put him through in the last year, pushing a thick cloud of smoke out through his nose with an angered huff. But still, he couldn’t help but stare for a moment as he remained unnoticed and quite aggravated that somehow, for some reason, that asshole was actually up here after all. 'Son of a bitch,' his mind sneered.

He felt an irritated heat begin to prickle at his brow, only agitating him further and his hands curled into fists at his sides as he tried to contain his sudden fume of outrage that he could feel turning his face red. For an instant, Ian had half a mind to march right up to him, spin him around and demand to know what the fuck he was doing all the way up here, but he stopped. The festival was quite large to put it lightly, well over a few thousand people here now, so it may not be too likely that he’d run into him or even see him again. But he also knew that was only as long as Jason hadn’t seen as well, and so far, he still hadn’t, much too focused on the concert in front of him.

So, the redhead took a single step back, pulled a drag from the smoke still burning between his fingers and turned his face away to peer back toward the rest of the festival, trying to eye a different area for him to go instead, even leaning up onto his toes in an attempt to gaze over the other heads around him. It was hard to make out too much, but Ian had a vague idea of where he wanted to go, remembering a bit of where he’d walked through before. Then he heard someone speak, causing his guts to twist again and his skull suddenly throbbed with a hard, raging pound.

“Ian?” called a voice in a rather surprised tone, causing him to drop back onto the soles of his shoes and turn his face back ahead of him. 

The redhead swallowed and felt his face instantly pull into a frown, taking another step back as he looked to see that to his extreme disappointment, Jason had not only noticed him, but had turned his body almost completely toward him, hollering in his direction with a growing smile on his face. The blonde man almost took a step, then began to tap the person beside him, as if to let them know he would be walking away for a moment. But the very instant Ian saw him look away to speak to the person he was tapping, his face whipped around in a quick, almost frantic search for an escape. Almost immediately he saw a split in the bodies beside him and turned once again to weave his way through a few others and disappear inside of it. He glanced back just once to make sure he wasn’t being followed, but the shift engulfed him too quick to tell. So he simply focused on his new direction, kept up a good pace and didn’t look back again. 

He passed through a tightly pressed cluster of other festival goers into a small clearing between two flows, pulled one last deep hit from his cigarette, then threw it down frustratingly into the dirt and stomped on it, too pissed to care at all about littering now. Ian rubbed his forehead, combed his fingers back through his hair and peered around once more, just making sure he’d successfully lost the other man. He was far beyond annoyed and felt almost violated, seeing that he was here as well, wondering if Jason had somehow found out that’d he’d be making a trip up here and simply followed him with his own selfish intentions. He wouldn’t put it past him and it wouldn’t surprise him in the slightest if that were truly the case. And now that his ex had seen him, Ian wasn’t sure if he’d be able to relax anymore, knowing he’d have to keep his guard up now just in case the other man came in search of him, another thing that wouldn’t be surprising for him to do. He’d just have to try and avoid him now, as best he could. Ian clamped his eyes shut with frustration, pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a heavy exhale. 'Fuck,'

“Hey,” a woman’s voice said suddenly, “Didn’t think I’d be lucky enough to run into you again so fucking soon.”

Ian turned his head at the sound, his eyes landing on the pretty, young face of the very same woman he’d met earlier, the one who’d been with 'Mick.' The sudden thought of the other man instantly sparking his mood into just the slightest bit of a perk and his eyes darted around again to see if he was with her. But he wasn’t and Ian tried not to let his shoulders visibly drop with a bit of disappointment. He didn’t want to ask and appear strange or rude either, so he just tried to act like he didn’t even notice it. She seemed nice enough anyway and he could use the distraction from the potentially disastrous situation he’d just escaped. And there was always the chance that even if the dark haired man wasn’t with her right now, she might know where he was. Ian relaxed his face, concealing the tingling little flutters of hope he felt floating in his chest and gave her a quick chin tip in return. 

“Maybe I’m the one who’s lucky?” Ian chuckled lightly in retort, with a mild joking tone, silently referring to her absent traveling companion, but hoping he wasn’t being too obvious about it. The young woman pursed her lips with a smirk, arched her eyebrow and cocked her head.

“Ya know, it’s really too bad you’re gay,” she replied smoothly, and traced her eyes over his chest for just a second, then looked back up at his face, “You’re a fucking charmer, Red,” the woman complimented with a bat of her eyes. Ian titled his own head and clicked his cheek. 

“Sorry,” he offered, his voice laced with a bit of sarcasm, giving him a small laugh in return. 

“It’s all good. I get it,” she assured with a loose wave of her hand, then shrugged and crossed her arms, “Like I said before, my fuckhead of a boyfriend is around here somewhere,” she said, sounding quite annoyed, taking a rather lazy eyed glance around them. The redhead creased his brow with a slight bit of confusion. 

“You never found him?” Ian asked and the woman simply shook her head and rolled her eyes with a small huff. 

“No,” she replied flatly like it was nothing new, “Asshole just likes to fucking disappear,” she explained with a scoff, “He'll turn back up eventually,” the woman added with another shrug, sounding as if she really didn’t care one way or the other if he actually showed back up or not. And Ian couldn’t help but feel a little bad for her, having been there himself in the past, so he sympathized a bit. The redhead twisted his body around and arched his back to take a final look back the way he’d come, seeing that as far as he could tell, he still wasn’t being followed, then looked back at the girl in front of him. 

“Want some company?” Ian offered shrugging a single shoulder and slipping his hands into his jean pockets, “I’m sorta just wandering around anyway,” he said. The young woman’s smirk returned, widening into a bit of a smile and gave his body another slow, sweeping glance, arching an eyebrow again. 

“Company, huh?” she repeated quite suggestively, and the redhead chuckled again, pulling loose a single hand to raise it’s palm in defense. 

“Still gay,” he reminded her lightly with a smile, then replaced his hand inside his pocket. The woman nodded easily with a small laugh and met his gaze once more, uncrossing her arms with another light shrug. 

“Sure,” she accepted pushing her lip out, “Why not?” the woman added, flipping long, wavy locks of pitch over her shoulder, bright little pops from her solidary pink streak peeking through from beneath them, “You could probably help keep the fucking creeps away from me at least,” she joked in a half serious tone, “Since Ryan’s dumbass isn’t here to do it.” 

“Glad to help,” Ian said with a friendly grin, just before a small, persistent nag returned to the back of his mind and he tried to resist the urge to look back behind him again. Instead, he was more eager to just get out of there, farther away from where he’d just come, somewhere he could relax again and try to forget the other man he’d just seen. 

“Whereabouts were you headed?” the redhead queried, trying not to let his nerves show, though the woman didn’t seem to notice them really anyway.

She turned her head and leaned up on her toes some to peer out toward one corner of the crowded field, far across a forever shifting sea of heads, to an area that hugged the tree line and was speckled with a small gathering of tents and bonfires, with a comfortable mingle of activity within it. The young woman then looked back up him and gave a flick of her head in the same direction with another sweet, easy smile pulling at her lips. 

“I was gonna hit the bonfires over there,” she said, “Heard they got free beer,” she added arching another eyebrow, “Good thing I found you. Seems I still owe ya one anyway,” the woman winked, then took a few small steps to stand by his side, then slid her rose-vined arm up under his for him to escort her, to which Ian easily accepted and hooked it to take her properly, “Sound good to you?” she asked tilting her face up to look at him again.

“Free beer?” Ian repeated, “Definitely,” he stated, which earned him another small laugh from his new acquaintance, then gave a slight shake of his head, “But uh, you don’t owe me anything,” he added with a sure tone, really not wanting the woman to feel at all obligated in repaying his earlier gesture, but she simply held her smirk and flipped her hair again.

“'Course I do,” she countered quickly, “It wasn’t my beer you spilled,” the woman laughed lightly, causing Ian to blush with a bit of embarrassment, still feeling a little bad about that, but strangely fluttery simply at the thought of the man he’d bumped into. She then gave his arm a gentle pull, made a pointed tip of her brow and lead him back into the mob. 

It didn’t take the pair long to push and maneuver through another patch of sea, moving along each shift and flow. As they got closer to the gathering the woman had referred to, Ian could begin to hear another strum and another beat that wasn’t emitting from a stage, but couldn’t seem to see where exactly it was coming from. They walked into another grouping of people, most of them holding and drinking cans of beer, all standing, sitting or slowly moving about, gathered around about half a dozen separate fire pits. Each crater of flame had a bit of distance between it and any other nearby, every one claimed by small arrangements of tents and other quick-pitch shelters. Every face he saw looked either chill and relaxed, or already in the beginning stages of drunkenness easily coexisting amongst each other. The redhead smiled feeling himself relax a bit again, just observing the scene as they approached and began to submerge within it. The young woman on his arm suddenly tilted her face back up toward his with a red lipped smile, leaned her head into his arm as she gazed at him and offered her free hand to shake. 

“I’m Mandy by the way,” she said sweetly, but quite politely, clearly just trying to be friendly and Ian smiled back kindly in return. 

“Ian,” he replied taking her hand in his and gave it a light but firm shake, before their grasp parted and Mandy pursed her lips a bit. 

“I like that,” she complimented, walking him over near the edge of the space they’d just entered, “I’m sure I won’t forget it,” she assured him, then looked back in front of them. 

Ian looked up as well and saw four enormous coolers crammed full of ice and beer cans, with a man standing beside them bearing a big, proud smile on his face, handing and tossing cold beverages out to whoever walked up and wanted one. He was honestly surprised at the man’s generosity, knowing he could easily pull in a decent chunk of cash if he’d sold them for a dollar a piece like the booth he’d passed earlier. But instead he just gave them away and seemed to do so quite happily, not at all minding how quickly more people began to notice and want one as well. There was a smile and a thanks with every exchange and it was no different as he watched Mandy slip her arm from his, approach the man with two fingers raised to which she received a polite nodding grin and two cold beers in return. She then turned around and extended her arm to hand one of them to Ian. 

“Debt repayed,” she informed him smoothly as he took the chilled, wet can from her grasp. The redhead cracked another small chuckle, smirked and cocked his head. 

“Not exactly your booze,” Ian retorted and the woman scoffed with an upturned palm, gesturing to the can he held just as he pulled a forefinger to crack it open. 

“I’m the one who handed ya the fucking thing ain’t I?” Mandy shot back with no heat in her voice, then opened her beer to drink as well, “Just drink it,” she ordered with a sharp point of her finger, another smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. 

Ian laughed with a nod, then did as he was told, bringing the rim of the can to his lips to take a long, crisp swallow and savored the soothing feeling it left on his throat. He smacked his lips, enjoying his steadily growing buzz and already began to feel much better, looser, at ease, then exhaled into the warm summer air. He was beginning to forget about Jason already, almost completely and that was fucking perfect, exactly what he needed. Mandy looked him over for a second then reached for his empty hand. 

“Come on,” she directed lightly, then gave him another pull, which he went with and they walked a little deeper into the grouping to weave amongst the other people and lurk a bit around the fire pits. 

As they walked through, the independent tune that’d struck his ears as they’d neared was gradually growing louder, but he still couldn’t locate it’s source. Though he bobbed his head to it regardless, rather liking the hard, quick beat it punched out into the air. Whoever was playing was clearly pretty good. They passed through a few different groups engaged in their own drinking games and smoking circles, even pausing when an older man with really long fingernails and a tattooed face offered Mandy a hit from his blunt. She’d agreed, but only if Ian could have some as well, which the man didn’t seem to mind a bit and simply waved his hand in consent. The redhead split a wide grin, gave a nod of thanks and inhaled a long, deep pull of sour, tangy smoke, fighting the urge to cough as he held in the cloud as long as he possibly could. They’d passed it back and exchanged happy, buzzing expressions between each other as they turned away to walk further on. 

Before too long, Ian and Mandy had finished their beers, tossed them into a nearby waste basket, and had become quite comfortable in each others presence, joking and laughing more often than not. Ian really liked Mandy, and she seemed quite sweet and smart, but bold and tough as well. And so far at least, she really made good company. At one point Ian had pulled a cigarette from his pocket, then began patting around over his pants to find his lighter, which for some reason he just couldn’t seem to locate. He creased his brow and frowned, but the woman next to him simply pulled a lighter from cleavage and flicked it toward the end of his smoke. Ian gratefully took the offer, then tipped his chin and gestured to his cigarette in thanks. Mandy pushed out her lip with a nod, watched him pull another drag, then reached to snatch it from his fingers and share with him. The young man chuckled, but didn’t protest, really not minding it and let her pull a few drags.

They passed it between them a few times before the woman plucked the cigarette from his fingers once more to rest it between her lips, then reached out for his hands and began to rock her hips around, urging him to dance with her. Ian easily obliged, raising one of her arms up to give her a twirl, then began to move to the beat as well, a smile stuck to his face all the while. They moved through other pairs and groups who were bouncing and dancing just the same, when the sharp ping of a drum cymbal being thwacked over a rough, harsh pattering pulled his attention up from his dance partner. 

He looked over at a space across one of the fire pits and saw two men playing instruments, one standing with a guitar plugged up to a small, square amp and another seated comfortably behind a drum set, wailing away on top of it. Ian felt his chest squeeze just slightly, but in a much different way than before, just as he began to squint, seeing exactly who the second man was and smiled just a bit.

It was Mick, the very man that the redhead had hoped so very much he’d have a chance to see again, right there immersed within his own flow, tapping his foot over pedals, banging his head to the music, his movements fast and hard, filling up the entire set. Ian’s smile widened as an airy swarm of flutters began to fill his lungs and he couldn’t help but keep stealing glances as he held onto Mandy and swung her around again. Occasionally he noticed the dark haired man glance up to the guitarist's hands who stood nearby, crease his brow a bit, but held a rather calm, entertained expression, and switched the beat back up to match the other man’s tune. He was adaptive and fluid, a trait and a talent that Ian instantly admired, making it even harder for him to tear his eyes away. 

Then he saw him glance up again for a moment, looking around him a bit at the faces of those nearby, who were turned and watching them play, when he met Ian’s eyes through the mingle and paused. The redhead swallowed as the other man continued his movements, looking down at his hands as he played every few seconds. But now, each time he looked back up, his eyes would find Ian again and just look, with an expression that was now much harder to read than before. Ian sort of did the same, trading his sights between the drummer across the fire and the woman still laughing and dancing in his arms. But he quickly found himself looking up much more often than down, and his new acquaintance seemed to notice too. 

“What the fuck do you keep looking at?” Mandy giggled out suddenly, appearing rather amused but halting her movements to scan over his face. Ian met her eyes and tried not to hesitate, quickly thinking of some other excuse to cover up his lingering gaze. 

“He sounds fucking awesome,” he responded, tipping his chin in the direction of the man across the way, seeing that he seemed to notice Ian’s gesture and creased his brow with a slight arch of his neck trying to see who it was he was speaking to. Mandy turned to look as well and they each seemed to meet the other’s eyes, the man appearing to scoff, then shook his head and put his full attention back on his drum set. The woman laughed again, pursed her lips over a grin and arched an eyebrow as she looked back up at Ian. 

“Ya think so, huh?” Mandy asked, then gave her head a flick, “Mick’s been playing for years,” she said, “Just sort of a hobby though,” the woman added, “Nothing too serious,” she shrugged.

“He must be a natural, then,” Ian praised with another small smile, still peering quite shamelessly over at the handsome, black haired man now pelting out the end of a beat atop his set, with a rough head pound, then gave it one loud final clash and a stomp, ending the song. 

The woman turned her face back as well, watching as both the guitarist and the drummer exhaled with satisfied smiles, one pulling a strap off a single shoulder and the other rising from his stool. Most in earshot immediately applauded, clapped and offered cheers of approval as both musicians shook up with one another, tipped their chins in departure and began to shift away from their instruments into opposite directions, leaving them to be picked up by other people who wanted to play. 

A nearby cluster of people immediately stopped Mick to offer praise and handed him a beer which he easily accepted and popped it open. As he brought the can to his lips to take a drink, his body slowly turned and his eyes moved around again, finding Ian once more. He swallowed, ran his tongue along his lower lip as if in thought, then looked away to suck down another gulp of booze. The pretty young woman still standing in front of him looked away from other man, with a cocky smirk pressed into her face and flicked her head again. 

“Why don’t you go say hello?” she suggested arching an eyebrow in question, causing the redhead’s eyes to widen with a rush of nerves. 

“What?” Ian blurted out, afraid he may have gazed too long, but Mandy just held her smile and blinked.

“Go fucking say hello,” she repeated a bit more bluntly with a friendly urge lacing her tone, “He’s not gonna fucking bite you,” Mandy laughed, then paused and creased her brow, “At least I don’t think he will,” she added. 

Ian swallowed again and tried to ignore her mildly suggestive remark as he glanced back up at the man in question, seeing another person offer him a pull from their pipe which he accepted as well and debated with himself on if he should actually approach him or not. He didn’t want to overstep or make the man uncomfortable, still not knowing where he stood on such matters and really wasn’t sure how to take the woman’s comment that she’d just made, which didn’t help that either. The redhead shifted his feet and began to subtly gnaw on the inside of his cheek, when Mandy giggled again and brought his attention away. 

“Well, you don’t have to look so fucking nervous,” she accused, seemingly humored by his hesitance, “Mick’s not so bad once you get to know him,” Mandy said with surety and a single shouldered shrug. 

“I’m not fucking nervous,” Ian replied, trying not to sound as defensive as he suddenly felt and tipped his chin across the way, “He just looks kinda busy right now,” he covered, watching as 'Mick' pulled a second drag from the pipe and sipped his beer, then glanced back over at Ian for just a second before the redhead forced himself to look away again. 

“Whatever you say,” Mandy conceded rather sarcastically, but didn’t really push it much further, merely reaching back out for his hands to resume dancing with him, but did make once last comment on it, “But, sometime you really should,” she urged, “I think you guys might really get along,” she smiled.

The redhead gave a single accepting nod, just trying to get off the subject and continued his dancing as well, now trying to be much more subtle and sneaky in his gazes across the fire. Each time he met the other man’s eyes, they both seemed to pause and stare for a bit too long, but neither was giving anything away in their expressions, just simply looking. 

Ian couldn’t tell what the other man was thinking at all, but he definitely kept looking at him and for some reason, it was starting to make him a little nervous. He’d made the mistake before of approaching the wrong man, bearing unwanted intentions and Ian really didn’t want to go through such an awkward situation ever again if he could help it. But, Mick didn’t look as if Ian’s gazes were bothering him in any way, silently reciprocating each and every one with a long, bold stare of his own, which just made the redhead all the more unsure. 

He tried not to let the wonder of the other man distract him too much as Mandy let out another laugh and swayed off balance to fall into his chest forcing him to catch her. Ian laughed as well, but was quick to grab ahold of her so she didn’t slip off her feet completely and fall to the ground. The young woman clutched at his clothes for a few seconds before she found her footing, stood up a little straighter and took a wobbly step back. 

“Sorry,” she giggled out with the slightest bit of a slur, “Had a few before I ran into you,” Mandy explained, “Little tipsy,” she smiled, sparkling her monroe piercing as her single pink lock of hair fell across her face. 

“Totally fine,” Ian chuckled. 

Mandy's smile widened as she began to bounce her head again, now raising her arms back up to rock her hips at him. The young man in front of her began to fall back into a jam with her as well, bringing a single arm up to wrap around her waist just before they were interrupted. 

“So, you switched to women, huh?” 

The redhead felt his guts twist and his head pound again as he turned his face to see Jason standing right beside them with a curious eyebrow raised and a smug, cocky smirk stuck into his face. Ian felt his jaw clench as his movements instantly ceased and saw his ex begin to look between them with a mixture of surprise and amusement. He titled his head and looked Ian over for a second as well. 

“I must have missed that memo,” he said. 

Ian’s mind flared as his hands curled into fists and he fought the urge to simply deck the man right in the mouth, right where he stood. But Mandy saw the man as well and didn’t skip a beat. 

“No,” she replied, wrapping her arms around his waist, “He just made an exception,” Mandy explained with a cocky tone of her own, clearly not liking the vibe Jason was giving off, also clearly noticing Ian’s sudden change in mood. The blonde man raised his eyebrows, kept his eyes on the redhead and flicked his head toward the young woman beside him. 

“She’s spunky,” Jason noted, “I can see why you like her,” he teased. The other man felt his jaw clench tighter, his teeth beginning to grind together and desperately just tried to control his temper.

“Go away,” Ian ordered bluntly through his teeth, ignoring his comment, but Jason simply held his smile.

“Well, that’s a little harsh,” he said, “Can’t just say hello?” The redhead’s eyes narrowed into a hard, cold glare and he felt his fists begin to twitch, but Mandy wasn’t having it. 

“I think he just told you to go away,” she interrupted, swatting her hand in the air up toward his face, “So fuck off,” Mandy advised with a snap in her teeth, but the blonde man only laughed at her, looking down into her face for just a second before addressing Ian again. 

“Is she serious?” Jason queried with a scoff. Ian began to stick his chin up and parted his lips to speak, but once again, Mandy spoke first.

“Do I look like some kinda fucking joke?” she spat out, raising her eyebrows and taking a step forward, not at all intimidated by the man’s stature and stared right into his face, “Or did I just fucking stutter?” The man in front of her raised his eyebrows again, pulled his face back and crossed his arms, when Ian placed a hand atop the woman’s shoulder to stop her. 

“I got this, Mandy,” he assured her quietly, gently urging her to step back, “Why don’t you go grab another beer?” Ian suggested, “I'll look for again later,” he said, sneaking a glance across the fire, seeing that Mick now seemed to notice Jason as well, along with the young woman’s demeanor and held a deeply creased brow as he very openly watched from a distance. Assuming that the man was maybe focused on the young woman beside him, knowing that they were acquainted, Ian didn’t hesitate in trying to get her out of there. Mandy looked between them for a moment before she looked back at Ian one last time, stretched up onto her toes and gave him a tiny peck on the cheek. 

“You better,” she insisted, then shot Jason a final glare before turning around and disappearing into the crowd. Ian watched her go, then turned back to the man still beside him and just tried to control his anger. The blonde man pursed his lips and cocked his head.

“You don’t look very happy to see me,” Jason observed. 

“Go away,” Ian growled out again, not in the mood for any sort of conversation or interaction with this man at all, but he still didn’t move. 

“You don’t have to be so rude,” the other man chuckled, “I just wanna talk,” he explained, but the redhead really didn’t care. 

“I don’t wanna talk to you,” said Ian who began to turn, when he suddenly felt a grip atop his shoulder and immediately turned back to smack it off, “Don’t fucking touch me,” he spat with a scowl, but his ex still persisted. 

“You never even gave me a chance to explain, Ian,” Jason pleaded, “Can’t I at least have that?” he asked in a snotty tone. The redhead scoffed and shook his head. 

“I know what I saw,” Ian shot back incredulously, “You don’t have to explain shit,” he said raising his eyebrows with surety. The blonde man dropped his shoulders and raised an eyebrow. 

“So, you’re just never coming home?” Jason queried with confusion and the other man screwed up his face at the question. 

“Home?” the redhead repeated, trying not to laugh at the absurdity, “I packed my shit and moved out two months ago,” Ian informed him, now looking at the man like he was either incredibly stupid, or maybe just delusional and shook his head again, “I don’t fucking live there anymore.” The other man then tilted his head again and spoke a little more quietly. 

“Every time you run away, you always come back,” said Jason and the redhead felt the surge behind his eyes begin to boil, making his fists squeeze tighter, “I know you miss me,” he accused softly and started to smile again, “And you know I miss you too.” Ian just scoffed again and stared into his face with rage and disgust, before he gave him only one warning. 

“Leave me the fuck alone,” he demanded darkly and began to turn away once more, when he felt the same hand reappear on his shoulder and he sort of snapped a bit. 

Ian whipped his body back around and his arms shot out, connecting with the other man’s shoulders and flung him back with a hard, forceful push, causing him to stumble back, knock into a few others nearby and fall to the ground. Several people turned to stare and made quick noises of surprise at the sudden jolt between the two men, but none got involved. Jason looked up at him from the ground with an expression of complete surprise, clearly not expecting such a reaction and dropped his jaw open. Ian felt his chest rise and fall with fast, tough breaths as he stared right back down at him and spoke through his teeth again. 

“Stay away from me,” he said, holding his glare, trying to show the other man how extremely serious he was. 

Jason didn’t say anything else and didn’t quite move to rise until Ian began to turn away for a final time, leaving him behind. Just as he did, the redhead’s eyes moved about, glancing at others around him, then paused on another pair that was still watching him quite closely. Ian swallowed when he noticed that Mick had still been looking over at him, long after Mandy had left his side and probably saw the entire altercation between him and Jason. But the other man still held a face of stone that didn’t give away a thing and Ian quickly looked away, feeling the swell of embarrassment rise into his throat, now weaving his way back through other people to calm down and collect himself somewhere alone. 

He made his way to the edge of the gathering and splintered off a bit to lean against a tree, pinching the bridge of his nose with frustration. The absolute last thing he wanted to deal with was seeing his ex-boyfriend, especially here, in a place where he shouldn’t have to even think about him at all. Ian didn’t want anything to do with the man and he kept trying to make that as clear as he possibly could, but the man was nothing if not persistent. The redhead was really quite surprised he’d been able to control himself as well as he did and not react much more harshly than he had, even though he knew that he shouldn’t have touched him at all. He’d just come up here to get away and relax, to have a good time and not deal with the things that always seemed to stress him so very badly. But Ian just couldn’t seem to catch that break. 

The redhead swung his backpack off from his shoulders, then slid his back down along the bark of the tree to sit against it’s roots within a lengthy patch of grass. He then bent awkwardly, trying to pull his cigarettes out from his jean pocket with a little bit of struggle from the angle. He groaned with annoyance, before finally yanking it free and flipping it open to retrieve a single smoke, bringing it to his lips. Ian then began to pat around for his lighter once again but still couldn’t find it and began assume that perhaps it’d slipped from his pocket while he was dancing with Mandy, which made his face pull down into a frown. He combed his fingers through his hair and flipped his bag around to unzip so he could search for another one. His hand fished and fumbled around as he squinted, trying his best to feel around and peer inside the backpack. But Ian’s frustration and agitation only grew the longer he searched, before he gave up with another tempted groan, dropped his face, pulled his unlit smoke from his mouth and pinched his nose again. 'Goddamn it.'

“You need a fuckin' light or somethin'?” 

When Ian lifted his head, the face he was met by made his lungs squeeze into a clog and his heart suddenly began pounding through his chest. Standing just a few steps in front of him, holding a beer and smoking a cigarette was the same man he’d been gazing at across the fire, the one he kept running into and couldn't stop thinking about; Mick. He stood looking down at him with a single eyebrow arched and a curious expression his face, deep, blue eyes tracing over him in study. 

Ian didn’t really know what to say, feeling quite caught off guard. He wanted to be friendly, but he was still pretty pissed off. He scoffed a bit without really meaning to, raised two upturned palms, then dropped them back into his lap. 

“Obviously,” Ian replied, sounding much more annoyed than he intended. The dark haired man then raised both his eyebrows with a lace of surprise at the other man’s boldness and split a sarcastic smirk. 

“Aye,” said Mick, “You wanna act like an asshole, I can turn right the fuck around and take my lighter with me,” he quipped back quite bluntly, still looking down into his face. The redhead exhaled and tipped his head back into the truck of the tree behind him. 

“I’m sorry,” he responded, feeling a little guilty for not replying more kindly, really not wanting to fuck up his chance to talk with the other man, no matter the circumstances. He then gave a slow nod, looking back up at the man in front of him, “I do, yeah,” Ian conceded. 

The other man dropped his eyes, held his beer and lit cigarette in the same hand and reached down into the baggy pocket of his pants. He then pulled out a zippo, flipped it open with a clink, gave the reel a flick of this thumb, then bent slightly, holding it out for the redhead to light his own smoke with. The seated man sucked in a long drag, then tipped his head back again with an exhale above his head and nodded once more. 

“Thanks,” said Ian. 

The dark haired man inhaled from his cigarette as well, shook his head at the other man’s words as he flipped his lighter closed and pushed it back down into his pocket. Both men stayed quiet for a moment, half looking at each other and half looking away, as if both were a little unsure what to say, when Mick took a sip of his beer, sucked his teeth and tipped his chin down at him. 

“So, uh, why the fuck ya sittin' back here all alone?” he queried, then began to chew his lower lip, the stud within it shining just a bit. 

The redhead met his eyes and tried very carefully to read his face, trying to understand the intention behind his question, knowing full well that the other man had seen him shove down his ex and storm off. Green eyes moved between blue for a few quiet seconds before Ian cocked his head and arched an eyebrow.

“You’re gonna act like you were the only person in eyeshot that didn’t see what just happened?” Ian challenged with a chuckle, then took a hit from his cigarette. Mick pushed out his lip and shrugged, looking away a little bit. 

“Didn’t really see too much,” he replied, sounding quite convincing, but the man sitting on the ground didn’t feel horribly convinced. Then what he said next caught Ian a bit off guard again, “Your fuckin' boyfriend piss ya off or some shit?” Mick asked looking back into his face, bearing a very calm and smooth expression. 

The redhead hesitated and tried once again to scan his features and read into him, but the other man didn’t appear to have any negative underlying tone of discomfort or disapproval in his words. Ian inhaled another thick cloud of smoke from his cigarette and scoffed again with a headshake. 

“Not my fucking boyfriend,” he informed him in a sure, clear tone and the other man simply sipped his beer and smoked his cigarette as well, listening and thumbed his lip a bit, “He used to be,” Ian added with a dark chuckle, then frowned as he felt his guts twist yet again, “Asshole just can’t take a fucking hint, I guess,” he said, then met the other man’s eyes again. 

“Shoulda fuckin' decked his ass then,” Mick suggested, which made Ian raise his eyebrows with surprise, “Usually sends a pretty clear fuckin' message,” he said chuckling some as well, seemingly trying to lighten the mood some, for whatever reason. Ian smirked with another slow nod, then cocked his head. 

“I’ve been trying to get better at controlling my anger,” he said rolling the cigarette filter between his fingers, “Don’t think that woulda helped too much,” Ian admitted, but the other man just shrugged again. 

“Suit yourself, man,” Mick retorted, “I think that shit's fuckin' therapeutic though,” he grinned, earning him a laugh from the other man still seated on the ground. Their eyes both lingered for a moment before the dark haired man brought his beer can back to his lips, swallowing down the last swig, then crushed it inside a fist.

“So you’re just gonna fuckin' sit there all night then?” asked Mick with a chin tip. Ian thought for a moment, then rubbed his forehead and combed his fingers through his hair.

“I don’t know,” he replied, scrunching up his face some, “Just kinda need to cool down for a minute I think,” he said. The other man stayed quiet again for a brief moment, eyes moving over him in thought, before he scratched his nose with the back of his thumb and cocked his head. 

“You smoke weed?” Mick asked, his pierced eyebrow arching sharply in question and a handsome smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Ian paused at the query, but answered honestly. 

“I do,” the redhead replied with a bit of question of his own, but the dark haired man just held his expression. 

“Want to?” he offered, his smirk rising a little higher.

Ian eyed him again, trying to ignore the tingle of flutters still floating in his lungs, not wanting to get ahead of himself and over think what the other man was doing. He’d seen him argue with his ex, shove the man to the ground, then stomp away alone and pissed off. Perhaps this man was just friendlier than he’d first appeared and was simply offering a gesture of kindness? Ian let himself smile at the man a bit once more, but he didn’t want to impose, so he simply sucked another drag and gestured to the backpack in his lap. 

“I got some of my own,” Ian replied simply. But the dark haired man just chuckled again lightly and gave a smooth shake of his head. 

“Not what I asked ya, man,” Mick countered with a grin. 

Suddenly the flutters began to dance and hum with excitement and Ian just tried not to smile any wider. Just when he thought that his trip had been spoiled, the universe seemed to finally cut him that break that he desperately needed and sent this handsome man to keep him a little company for a while. Even if there was nothing more to it than that, he was thankful, grateful for it and he definitely wasn’t going to waste it. Ian flicked his thumb over his cigarette filter a few times, then gave a tip of his chin. 

“Sure,” he said and the other man rolled his tongue along the inside of his cheek, then flicked his head pointedly toward the woods beside them.

“Let’s take a fuckin' walk then,” Mick suggested, then took a quick glance toward the gathering they’d separated from but were still quite close to and looked back down at the redhead, “I ain’t much for fuckin' sharin',” he said with a slight arch of his brow. 

Ian gave a short, final nod, placed his cigarette between his lips, then grasped his backpack from his lap to swing back over his shoulder and rose from the ground before following the other man into the tree line. 

They both stayed pretty quiet for a few minutes as the walked deeper into the forest, the sounds of music and voices from behind them beginning to muffle and fade a bit. Then the redhead finished his cigarette, snuffed the filter out on the bottom of his shoe, stuffed it inside his pocket and stole a small glance at the man walking beside him. He chewed his lip with nerves for a moment, trying to think of something to say, really just wanting to speak with him more and tried not to act at all nervous while he did it. 

“So you’re uh, Mick, right?” Ian asked suddenly, grasping at whatever bit of a conversation he could start. The other man flashed him a glance, then looked back ahead. 

“Mickey,” he corrected easily, then looked back over and arched another eyebrow, “You got a fuckin' name?” Mickey asked with an expectant gaze, deep blue eyes twinkling over him. 

“Ian,” he provided and the other man pushed out his lower lip, took a final pull from his cigarette and dropped the butt into his empty beer can, then chucked it off to the side. 

“This your first fuckin' year up here?” Mickey queried as he walked up to a large, round tree trunk and moved to sit against it, then slipped a hand deep down inside his pocket to rummage around for something. 

“Yeah,” Ian replied, “Been to a few shows before, but nothing like this,” he said as he followed him, swung his bag back off his shoulders and slid down the bark to sit beside him, careful not to sit too close and make things awkward or uncomfortable. 

He watched as the other man pulled a metal cigarette holder from his pocket and flipped it open with a click to reveal a few cigarettes clasped within, with two joints pushed snuggly up beside them. Mickey lifted the clasp, removed a joint, replaced the clasp and flipped it back closed, then slid his hand back inside his pants to replace it with his zippo. He then looked back at Ian, thumbed his lip with the hand that held his lighter before dropping his eyes to the other man’s hands and offered the joint over. 

“What about you?” Ian asked as he took the joint, trying to ignore the subtle sparks he felt shoot through his fingertips as they brushed over Mickey’s and placed it between his lips, “Your first time?” The other man laughed and shook his head as flicked back the top his zippo to spark with flame.

“Fuck no,” said Mickey, then raised the flame to light the joint for Ian, watching as he inhaled, “Been comin' up here for fuckin' years,” he added, flipping his lighter closed and leaning back a little more, “Since I was like sixteen.” 

The redhead raised his eyebrows, both impressed and surprised, but found the fact quite cool and interesting, betting the man had quite a few stories to tell and really hoped he might be able to hear a few. He held a large, hot hit deep inside his chest, creasing his brow and puffing his chest up a bit, then passed the joint over. The dark haired man pinched it and brought it to his mouth as well. 

“Usually just fuckin' drive up here with Mandy,” he elaborated, holding in his smoke, then pulling in a bit more, “But this year she wanted to drag along her dumbass fuckin' boyfriend,” Mickey scoffed, “Asshole has fuckin' shit for brains, man,” he chuckled, thin wisps of smoke escaping his nostrils and passed the weed back.

Ian sucked a drag and began to nod, remembering the woman’s words and attitude toward her boyfriend when she’d spoken about him earlier and suddenly felt pity and sympathy for her all over again. He then thought of how she’d behaved with Mickey, how comfortable they were with each other and close they seemed despite having moments of mild hostility or argument. They seemed to have a past of some sort, but what type of past, Ian had no way to tell. But, he also didn’t think it’d be too rude to simply ask, right? So he paused for a brief moment, making sure he found the right words. 

“You and Mandy kinda seem like you have a history,” said Ian, trying not to feel nervous, hoping that he wasn’t being too forward in his question. But the other man scoffed again with a small laugh and tilted his head. 

“You could say that,” Mickey replied in a very particular tone that Ian couldn’t really read and it confused him a bit. So he thought he’d try a bit more, because he was just really, really curious. 

“Just better off as friends, huh?” Ian pressed just slightly, exhaling a thick plume of smoke out in front of him, then moved to pass the weed again, “Sucks when shit doesn’t work out, but at least there’s that,” he stated with a light shrug, really being quite honest in his words. 

But he jumped suddenly when the man next to him coughed on his smoke and burst out laughing, pounding the side of his fist into his chest, now trying to catch his breath. The dark haired man then looked him in his face as his eyebrows pulled up into a high, sharp arch of insistence. 

“That’s my fuckin' sister, man,” Mickey managed between a few more small, chesty coughs. The redhead went wide eyed at his words, then suddenly began laughing as well, clutching his chest, then shook his head and raised a palm. 

“I’m so fucking sorry,” Ian stated with surety, feeling really, really stupid for what he’d just said, but not too terrible about it, clearly seeing that even though the other man found the notion rather atrocious and absurd but he found it quite comical as well and was taking the assumption quite lightly. Ian shook his head and collected himself. 

"I dunno why I didn’t fucking think of that,” he said. 

The dark haired man scrunched up his face some and waved him off, taking a quick hit of weed and passing it along. He kept his eyes on Ian’s lips as he smoked and slowly ran his tongue back over his own before he looked away and gazed vaguely ahead of them into the trees. Ian exhaled, offered the joint and licked his lips, as the other man met his eyes again for just an instant and took the bud again. 

“So, where the fuck ya from?” Mickey asked, and Ian smiled a bit as the other man continued to want to get to know him and tipped his head. 

“Chicago,” Ian replied and the other man raised his eyebrows again.

“What part?” Mickey queried further, appearing quite interested in his answer. 

The redhead watched him suck another drag and he tried not to let his eyes linger too long on the other man’s lips, but instead focus on what he’d just been asked. He blinked and met his eyes. 

“Southside,” said Ian, “Canaryville,” he elaborated a bit more, "Got a ride up here with a coworker and his girlfriend.” Mickey chuckled with a slight shake of his head and handed over the weed, which had already burned down a little more than halfway. 

“Small fuckin' world, man" he breathed with a smoky gust passing through his lips and smiled lightly at the man beside him, appearing even more comfortable with his steadily growing buzz and the redhead raised his eyebrows. 

“You from Chicago too?” Ian asked with surprise, pausing on taking his hit and watching as Mickey gave a single nod. 

“Originally,” he confirmed, “Got outta that shithole a long ass time ago though,” said Mickey, sounding as though he didn’t regret leaving or miss the place a single bit, which Ian understood must have been for good reason, “Me and Mandy been staying in Minneapolis with our mom for fuckin' years,” he explained, not really going into any further detail, clearly a bit guarded on the subject, “Couldn’t fuckin' get outta there fast enough.”

The words made Ian feel a bit sad, but he tried not to look too affected and come across too touchy or sensitive, especially since they’d only just met. And although at first he’d been quite happy to find out he and Mickey had been from the same city, it did bother him and made him wonder what may have happened to make the man want to rid himself from the place he’d grown up so completely, what made him seem to have such contempt for it. Maybe, if he spent more time with him, or even somehow kept in touch, perhaps he’d find out. But Ian wasn’t going to ask, so he just didn’t touch on it further.

Their eyes lingered again, blue and green flickering together for just a brief moment, before the blue eyes dropped to the joint still burning in his hand and silently gestured with his eyebrows, urging the other man to take another drag, then watched him as he did it. And Ian watched him back, trying to drown out the flutters clogging his lungs with deep, cloudy pulls of smoke, wondering all the while what the other man was thinking, looking for some hint or clue. But fuck, was Mickey a hard man to read, with features that read so many different angles all at once and Ian was just stumped. He tried not to hesitate too much or let the conversation drop, so he exhaled and offered the joint. 

“So, what do you do?” Ian asked, interested in learning more about the other man as well, just like Mickey seemed to want to learn about him. The dark haired man smirked and held himself with a bit of pride as he sucked a deep, sharp hit from the bud between his fingers. 

“I do ink,” he grinned and held out his forearms to display his cusp of flames streaming up one side and snarling wolf wearing a horned skull mask, with small intricate designs lacing around the edges of the illustration on the other, “And piercings too,” Mickey added rolling his tongue under his lip to shine the stud, then arched his studded eyebrow and gave his ears a wiggle, flashing them as well.

Ian laughed lightly as he looked him over admiring more features than just the ones he intended to display, slowly but surely becoming more and more intrigued by this man, unable to possibly know enough. Mickey exhaled and offered what was becoming much more of a roach than a joint, but the redhead made a light passing gesture with his hand. So instead he snuffed it out on the edge of his shoe and fished through his pocket for his cigarette case, seemingly to tuck away for later. Ian remembered seeing him and his sister smoking from a pipe much earlier in the day, and assumed it’d be used in that, which he honestly thought was smart thinking. He held a small smile and saw the other man tip his head again. 

“I actually find a lot a fuckin' work up here every fuckin' year,” Mickey chuckled, pulling a cigarette from his case and flipping it closed with a click, then pushed it back down where he’d retrieved it, “Good crowd for that shit,” he said, producing his zippo and lighting his cigarette. 

“I mean, I ain’t exactly legit,” he pulled his lower lip down at a corner and arched an eyebrow, pulling his face into a bit of an odd expression, and Ian creased his brow just slightly, “But my shit is legit,” Mickey stated with surety, and confidence, “And I don’t fuck around. I handle shit right and I do good work,” he met his eyes again, still appearing very upstanding in his profession, no matter how under the table it was and Ian really respected that. The redhead let his smile spread, figuring if the other man questioned it, he could blame it on the high, but the other man didn’t seem to mind and chewed his lip as he smiled right back, then dropped his eyes and tipped his chin. 

“What about you, man?” Mickey asked, “The fuck do you do to make a livin'?” he grinned, tracing the features of his face.

Ian internally cringed, always feeling rather embarrassed for his pathetic little job at the diner where he mostly just took orders, scrubbed dishes and took out the trash. He especially felt that way now, knowing how cool and impressive the other man’s job was, not feeling like his was really anything worth even mentioning. But he wasn’t going to lie to the man either, not at all wanting to start things off that way, so he thought it best to just be honest. 

“I uh, work at a diner,” he said slowly, reaching to rub the back of his neck, “Been there almost a year,” Ian explained quietly, “Not really much, but it’s something,” he shrugged. The other man nodded and offered him his cigarette to share, which he accepted and took a drag from. 

“That shit ain’t bad at all, man,” Mickey assured, seeming to sense his tone, still watching him as he smoked, “It’s somethin' consistent,” he said, bending a single knee to rest his forearm on and spoke with the same hand, “Which is a hell of a lot better than I got,” he chuckled lightly, “I only make money when I can find the fuckin' clientele,” explained Mickey.

Ian tilted his head in thought, then gave an understanding nod, feeling a bit better about his job, even though he still considered the other man’s much more interesting. He passed the cigarette, arched an eyebrow and pointed down at Mickey’s arms. 

“You do these yourself then?” Ian asked, admiring the artwork etched into his skin and got another nod in return.

“Fuck yeah,” Mickey replied, exhaling two thick plumes of smoke through his nose, “Don’t trust too many other motherfuckers not to fuck shit up,” he said and Ian laughed again. The dark haired man chewed his lip a bit, as if he was silently trying to will down his grin, then tipped his brow at him. 

“Your ass got any ink?” he queried curiously, letting his eyes fall to trail over the exposed skin of his arms in search. 

Ian tipped his chin in return and reached to pull up the sleeve of his t-shirt, then turned a bit show the other man the dragon splayed across his bicep. Mickey ceased his brow a bit and arched his neck to look. 

“Got this a few months ago,” he said, letting the other man look it over, while also trying not to enjoy the tickling speckle of his deep, blue gaze traveling across his skin, even if it was just his arm. The redhead pulled his sleeve back down, then gestured to his ribs, “I got another on my side,” Ian added as well, “But I don’t like that one as much,” he mentioned a bit more quietly, remembering his state of mind when he’d gotten it done, not at all wanting to reminisce on it. Though the other man simply arched an eyebrow and split another smirk. 

“I guess I'll wait to see that one,” Mickey said lowly, pulling a drag from the cigarette, then passing it again.

Ian’s eyes flickered just slightly at the words, not at all expecting them nor was he sure how to interpret them, let alone respond. But he did gather the courage to let himself smirk back, really enjoying the way the other man seemed to be looking at him now, though he wasn’t letting himself over think it just yet. There was something lingering behind Mickey’s gaze, he could tell, but Ian still couldn’t be quite sure what it was, so he still didn’t want to ask and risk being wrong. Instead he puffed on the smoke, held his eye contact, then offered back to the other man who took one final hit and crushed it into the ground. He then held it between his thumb and forefinger and raised his arm to throw it, when Ian stopped him with an upturned palm. 

“Hey,” he said, bending his fingers toward himself, gesturing for the other man to hand it over. Mickey creased his brow and scrunched his face a bit, but gave it to him all the same, then watched as Ian stuffed it away inside his own cigarette pack. The dark haired man pulled his face back and cocked his head. 

“The fuck ya doin'?” Mickey asked, looking extremely confused and the redhead flashed him a glance as he tucked the pack away. 

“There’s enough shit all over the place,” Ian informed him, “It’s not hard to just throw shit away,” he said, then immediately regretted his choice of words and whatever tone they may have unintentionally been laced with, hoping that his own compulsion didn’t upset the other man who was now looking at him with another surprised expression and highly arched eyebrows. Ian swallowed and relented a bit. 

“I’m sorry,” the redhead punched out quickly, “It’s just my own stupid thing,” he tried to explain and dropped his gaze, feeling like an idiot who’d just made a fool out of himself. But then he was suddenly a bit shocked to hear the other man laugh again, and he lifted his face to see that Mickey didn’t look even the slightest bit bothered by the comment. 

“Nah, man. Don’t be fuckin' sorry,” he said, waving him off again, “I get it,” Mickey nodded wide and slow, “Ain’t no big deal,” he assured him with a grin. 

The other man exhaled with a bit of relief, then nodded as well and reached to comb his fingers through his hair. The dark haired man watched him as he did it, not appearing to be very subtle at it either, then flicked his head back the way they’d came. 

“Ya wanna go hit a fuckin’ show?” Mickey offered, pointing through the trees with his thumb, “Puddle of Filth is suppose to playing in a bit,” he said. Ian gave a shrug and cocked his head in question. 

“They any good?” Ian asked, not having heard of the group before. The other man creased his brow and spoke with a very obvious tone. 

“They’re one a the fuckin' headliners,” said Mickey, then chucked again, “So, they better fuckin' be.” The redhead pushed out his lip and shrugged again. 

“Sure, I’ll check 'em out,” he accepted. The other man paused briefly and raised his eyebrow again.

“You drive all the way the fuck up here for a five day fuckin' concert and you don’t know the fuckin' music?” Mickey queried with a bit of confusion and Ian gave yet another shrug causing the dark haired man to shake his head some, “Somethin' ain’t fuckin' right about that, man,” he told him, “We gotta fuckin' change that shit,” Mickey added suddenly, starting to shift his feet under his body to rise, “Get the fuck up,” he directed, now bearing a small smirk. The redhead grinned, but didn’t question it, now moving to do as he was told and stand as well, then moved to walk back through the woods toward the festival alongside Mickey. 

They made their way back into the main field and Ian followed as Mickey turned a bit to head toward one of the stages, glancing back every so often, making sure that Ian was still with him. They entered a thinner area between flows and paused for a moment, looking for another split in the shift to move back into. The redhead leaned toward him a bit, wanting to explain himself a little bit better. 

“It wasn’t my idea to come up here,” Ian said suddenly, causing the other man to turn his face and look at him, “I was invited,” he elaborated, “My buddy just had an extra ticket,” Ian shrugged lightly, “I do know a few of the bands though,” he said, “Just not all of 'em.” The dark haired man then creased his brow again. 

“Ticket?” Mickey repeated curiously, “Like, someone fuckin' sold it to him?” he queried. The redhead crinkled his brow and shrugged a single shoulder. 

“Yeah, I guess,” Ian replied, not really understanding what the other man was getting at, then felt even more confused when he saw the man laugh lightly and shake his head just before giving it a pointed flick for Ian to follow him into the swarm. They managed to walk more at each other’s sides, staying quiet for a few paces until Mickey spoke again. 

“Tell him not to waste anymore fuckin' money on that shit,” he advised meeting his eyes, then looking back ahead. The redhead raised an eyebrow, still not understanding. 

“You come every year though,” Ian countered and the other man simply nodded. 

“I do,” Mickey agreed smoothly, “But I don’t need no fuckin' ticket,” he said. 

“You don’t?” the redhead asked and the dark haired man gave another firm, sure shake of his head and gestured around vaguely with his hand. 

“You see any fuckin' ticket takers?” he asked back, causing Ian to pause and think for a moment, realizing that indeed, he had not, now wondering if Jesse had any idea that he’d gotten ripped off, though he didn’t seem like he had. His expression fell a bit at the realization and he blinked. 

“Huh,” Ian stated flatly, not really sure how else to respond, feeling a bit dumbfounded himself, but the other man merely nudged him lightly with his elbow and tipped his chin again. 

“It’s in the same couple a spots every fuckin’ year,” Mickey revealed, “If it’s not here, then it’s in another clearing about thirty miles west,” he continued, “And it really ain’t too hard to fuckin' find,” Mickey shrugged half heartily and Ian nodded yet again, making sure he remembered to tell Jesse as well and both their feet slowed as they reached their destination. 

The other man looked away, peering out toward the crowd that stood huddled around a stage that bore a large display of bright, flashing strobes, a loud, banging amp of bass and some energetic metal band bouncing around atop it. They watched for a few moments, each beginning to bob their heads a bit, and feel the music, still lurking near the back of the screaming, jumping crowd and quietly watched the show. Then Mickey shot him another smirk that made his chest flutter, reached for his hand and pulled him through the surge behind him. 

Ian stayed with him, quietly relishing the feeling of his hand within the other man’s grasp and followed as he continued to pull him through the tight shifting of bodies, into a spot that was closer to the middle of the stage, then released him. Mickey held a handsome expression as he shot him a glance, then gestured up toward the stage with his chin. Ian smiled and looked where he was directed to, watching as the band members continued to dominate the platform and screamed into their microphones, all while their stage lights flashed different colors and a large screen behind them displayed their performance at a much bigger magnitude. He glanced back at Mickey, seeing him begin to jump around and bang his head with the others around him and Ian did the same, quickly falling into a groove beside him, but careful not to shake his pack up too much. 

And before long, Ian had forgotten all about his uncomfortable interaction with Jason and suddenly, he couldn’t possibly care any less if he ended up seeing the man again at some point over the next few days. It just didn’t fucking matter right now, not in the slightest, not when he was with his newest acquaintance, with Mickey. He stole glances at him while they stayed pressed fairly close together within the crowd and couldn’t help but smile a bit more each and every time he did it. There was something about this guy, and Ian could feel it. He just hoped he’d get to spend more time with him while he’s here, in whatever capacity. 

They stayed for a quite a while, perhaps a few hours, rocking out to several songs before the show commenced, the band gave their winded but grateful thank yous and another group of musicians shuffled out from the back to set up their equipment. But according to Mickey, the next band wasn’t nearly as good as the first and suggested they go grab a beer instead, so they did. 

They split from the crowd and wandered off toward the same beer booth they’d first spoken in front of much earlier in the night and quietly stood in line. When they approached the vendor, Ian began to reach for his wallet, but when Mickey noticed, he shot him a glance, shook his head and slapped two dollar bills down atop the table instead. The redhead dropped his eyes, hiding his smile and tried not to blush at the gesture, even if it was only a dollar. The vendor handed them their drinks and they departed from the booth together, falling back into their paces, side by side. 

Both men sipped their beers and continued to chat as they strolled through the festival without much destination in mind. It became easy fairly quickly and Ian couldn’t have been happier about it, especially when he’d notice the other man’s gaze linger over him for a bit too long. Ian thought maybe the other man was dropping hints, trying to give him some slight, subtle indication of what he was really thinking, but fuck was that still a difficult thing to figure out. He didn’t want to assume, but still couldn’t seem to bring himself to outright ask, so he just bit his tongue and tried to keep paying attention. 

Something Ian did realize quite quickly however, was the fact that Mickey seemed to know so many people. Well rather, so many people seemed to know Mickey that is. Several people offered fist bumps and expressions of greeting as if they’d known the man for years, gestures that perplexed Ian the more he saw them. But then it made sense when one man asked Mickey if he was already booked tomorrow and Ian instantly understood that these people knew him because of his work. The dark haired man appeared to be quite the popular tattooist at Warp Fest, as more and more people began to inquire the same as the first man the longer they walked through the mass.

At first Ian felt a little awkward, just sort of standing quietly by Mickey’s side as he spoke to each person that approached him. But Ian was surprised yet again when Mickey quickly took each opportunity to introduce him to these same people, not wanting him to be left out, for whatever reason. Though it made the redhead feel special all the same, even if he didn’t know for sure why the other man was doing it. They still hadn’t known each other very long, but from an outside perspective, it probably didn’t look that way. He kept flashing him smirks, arching his eyebrows, staying close to his side, letting his eyes gaze even longer than before and Ian just tried not to think on it all too hard. Things aren’t always what they seem, right? 

They stayed together throughout the night, passing through a few smaller gatherings of more people that Mickey knew to one extent or another, sharing smoke and passing bottles with a friendly, comfortable feeling filling the atmosphere around them. They also passed through a few more shows, with a few more bands, the performances going loud and strong, all night long. Ian was having a blast and couldn’t remember the last time he had so much fun or felt so at ease. It was just fucking wonderful. 

But as it got later and the sky began to brighten around the horizon just a bit, Ian suddenly let out a yawn and glanced down at his watch for the first time all day, seeing that before long, it would be dawn and the first night of the festival would be officially over. Mickey must have noticed the time as well, because before Ian could even mention it, they’d already made their way back to the trail, now passing through it into the other field without a single word spoken about it. 

Mickey didn’t seem to really be tired, still quite alert in his steps and his movements, but seemed to be able to tell Ian was, to some degree and slowed his pace a bit to match his. When they passed back into the first field, there was still quite a bit of activity, but Ian only yawned again, earning him a chuckle in response. 

“'Bout to go fuckin' crash?” Mickey asked, arching an eyebrow. Ian nodded, rubbed his eyes with a curled forefinger, then pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Yeah,” Ian replied, “Probably,” he said and the other man nodded in acknowledgement as well, looking away toward the field in front of them. Then Ian gathered his courage and asked a question that he just hoped wouldn’t get shot down. 

“Can I look for you tomorrow?” Ian asked, hoping he’d been reading the other man’s signals correctly throughout the night, but still feeling incredibly nervous that perhaps he hadn’t. But then his nerves were drowned out by another swarm of tingly little flutters floating up his throat and swirling into his thoughts as he watched the man meet his eyes, trail his sight delicately over his face, down his neck and across his chest, then looked back into his face with a smirk. 

“Fuck yeah,” Mickey replied in a very sure tone, nodding as he spoke, “For sure, man,” he said and the redhead tried not to smile any wider at the answer. The dark haired man rolled his tongue beneath his lip and cocked his head, “Dunno where exactly I’ll fuckin' be though,” he informed him with half a shrug, but Ian didn’t mind looking around, not at all and Mickey smirked again, “But yeah,” said Mickey, “Come fuckin' find me.” Ian smirked back at him and tipped his chin. 

“I will,” he said with confidence, excited for the following day that suddenly couldn’t seem to get here fast enough. 

Their sights lingered again as their steps slowed and halted, now needing to part but not quite moving to do so just yet. Ian tried to be the first to turn away but just couldn’t seem do it, still paused beside him instead. So, it was Mickey who said goodbye first. 

“See ya around then, man,” he said with a parting chin tip and took a step to the side. 

“See ya,” Ian mirrored, watching as Mickey gave him one final sweeping glance before he turned away and began walking over to the far end of the field that was packed full of cars and other vehicles, gradually disappearing from view. 

The redhead grinned wider, not at all caring how dumb or goofy it probably made him look, but not really knowing either if it was from his delightfully buzzing haze or from all the time he’d spent hanging out and talking with Mickey, though he really didn’t care. He turned to walk across the other side of the field toward the corner still speckled with tents, passing a few others as he went. Ian hardly gave his friend’s tent a second glance when he saw it zipped up for the night, simply teetering past it to his own to unzip and crawl away inside. He swung off his backpack, leaving it near his feet and didn’t even bother to take off his shoes as he pulled the zipper shut and laid down atop his sleeping bag, exhausted, but content to say the least. 

As Ian closed his eyes and began to drift away within his mind, his thoughts began to wander back to that of sparkling blue eyes, a devilish smirk and jet black hair, sights that now lured and captivated him in ways that nothing ever had before. He’d had just a taste of him, but couldn’t wait to have more, as soon as he possibly could. Mickey was something unforeseen and unexpected, but something new and exciting as well, just what he seemed to need right now.

All in all, Ian thought his first night at Warp Fest had turned out to be pretty fucking cool after all.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longest chapter yet! :)  
> Still needs some editing, but should be alright. :)  
> Please let me know what you think! :)

Ian awoke feeling quite refreshed, even though he’d only really slept for a few hours. He sat up with a grin stuck to his face, rubbed his eyes and stretched as best he could within his rather confined little space, then combed his fingers through his hair, shook it out and did it again. With thoughts of the night before still fresh on his mind, he was quite eager and excited to immerge from his tent and find Mickey, just like the man said he could. 

He turned a bit and curled his body to peel off his shirt and toss it aside, before slapping on some deodorant, then replacing it with a fresh one. Ian didn’t bother with his jeans, but he did remove his shoes to change his socks, then slipped them back onto his feet. Just as he dug around to make sure the last beer in his bag hadn’t broken and that his weed hadn’t somehow spilled sometime during the night, which thankfully they hadn’t, a small beeping noise suddenly arose from his wrist and turned his attention away . The redhead dropped his eyes to his watch, seeing the time, turned off the alarm and sighed. How could he forget? 

Ian turned again, grasping his backpack by a single strap to pull around in his lap and began to rummage through a different pocket. He then produced two medicine bottles and popped them open to take a single pill from each, then tucked them back away. He then paused and stared down into his palm at his medication, feeling the same way he always did about them. Ian didn’t want to take them, he never did, but he knew that they did help him, especially since he’d been put on this new combo. Plus he just wanted to hurry up with it so he could start his day. So he didn’t linger any longer as he wiggled on his pack and moved to exit his tent, pills in hand, then rose from the ground and zipped it closed behind him. 

It was early and the sun was already bright and piercing as it lit up the land around him, causing him to squint a bit and shield his eyes with his palm. Ian creased his brow, dropped his face and was careful in his steps to move between the other tents over to his friend’s to see he’d perhaps brought water with in his cooler. As he rounded it, he saw it was open with Jesse seated in the grass just outside of it, smoking a cigarette and Sarah still wrapped away beneath a blanket inside, quietly sleeping. Ian dropped his palm and blinked a few times as he met the man’s eyes and tipped his chin. 

“Hey,” Ian greeted with a small, friendly grin and the other man returned it with a welcoming expression and a chin tip of his own. 

“Hey,” Jesse offered back, “You’re up early,” he noted, “Didn’t see ya turn in last night,” the man’s grin widened a bit, “I figured you’d still be asleep,” he said. The redhead shrugged a bit, not at all wanting or feeling as if he needed any more sleep, thoughts of another man still fresh in his mind. 

“No, I feel great,” Ian countered confidently, “Ready to head back out,” he said glancing out across the field and along the tree line toward the pathway, then looked back down at Jesse with a small gesture to the hand that still held his pills, “Just gotta take my meds, then go find somewhere to take a piss,” Ian added and the other man chuckled with a small nod, then held his cigarette between his lips to lean over into the tent to the cooler beside Sarah. He slipped his hand inside and felt around for a moment before pulling out a bottle of water and sitting back to toss it up toward Ian who caught it.

“Thanks,” said the redhead as he gave the cap a twist, then tipped his head back to drop his medication into his mouth and washed them down with a big, long chug of water. Jesse shrugged a shoulder, gave another nod and sat smoking his cigarette. Ian finished his drink, closed the bottle to toss back, then raised his eyebrows as he suddenly remembered something important that he had to tell him.

“Oh yeah,” he pointed, “Don’t buy any more fucking tickets for this shit,” Ian directed with a brief gesture around with the same finger. Jesse cocked his head and scrunched up his face in confusion. 

“What do you mean?” he asked, clearly looking for some clarification, “Aren’t you having a good time?” Jesse queried. Ian nodded, then shook his head. 

“No, I am,” the redhead assured, unable to stop another smile from pulling at his lips, “I mean, you don’t need a ticket to come to this thing,” he explained, “You never noticed that no one ever asked you if you had one?” Ian asked. His friend seemed to think for a moment, just as Ian had when he’d first learned of the fact himself, then cocked his head again. 

“How’d you find this out?” Jesse queried back and the other man couldn’t help but hold his grin, though he really tried not to let it spread too much and reached to rub the back of his neck. 

“I uh, sorta met someone last night,” Ian replied and watched his friend arched a bit of an eyebrow at that, but he tried not to pause on it, “He told me he’s been coming for years, but never needs a ticket,” he elaborated, dropping his hand from his neck to hook his thumb on a belt loop of his jeans and shrugging. The man seated on the ground scoffed, crushed the end of his smoke into the grass in front of his legs and shook his head in annoyance at the discovery. 

“Motherfucker,” he mumbled under his breath and ran a hand roughly down his face. 

“Who’d you get them from anyway?” Ian wondered aloud causing Jesse to tip his face back, roll his eyes and flick his head toward his sleeping girlfriend. 

“Sarah’s asshole brother,” he said, then scoffed again, “Should of fucking figured as much,” Jesse admitted with an exhale, then met Ian’s eyes, “He supposed to be up here too though,” he added, “Guess I gotta track him down and kick his ass,” Jesse chuckled a bit, seeming a little irritated at the situation but was taking quite a bit lighter than the redhead had thought he would, then saw him give yet another headshake, “Really didn’t wanna end up in a fight up here though,” he said, “Kinda defeats the whole purpose of trying to relax, ya know?”

Ian nodded with agreement, his mind vaguely traveling back to the minor situation with Jason the night before, but quickly pushed the thought from his mind, not at all wanting to pollute his current good mood with something that made him so angry. He also didn’t really want to mention it to Jesse either, knowing full well how much his friend despised his ex-boyfriend, so much so that if he knew the man was causing Ian any problems, he wouldn’t hesitate to help his friend deal with the man, whatever that meant and the redhead really didn’t want him to feel the need to. It wasn’t that big of an issue anyway, especially because Ian was fairly sure he’d gotten his point across and didn’t think Jason would be any more of a problem. And right now Ian really just needed to go take a piss more than anything so he began to take a few steps to the side, eager to make his way into the tree line and empty his bladder and tipped his chin again. 

“Well if you find him, don’t beat him too bad,” Ian advised with another chuckle and Jesse tilted his head in agreement. 

“Just enough to get my fucking money back,” he confirmed and raised his hand up in departure, just before turning to crawl inside the open tent beside him. The redhead looked away, now making quick steps across the field, weaving through a speckling spread of bodies mingling throughout the space, then practically sprinted off into the forest with a haste. 

He moved through the trees on quick feet, trying to get well enough away from others to find a tree he could relieve himself on, rushing to round the trunk of a rather large oak and fumbled over the button of his jeans before finally getting them open and pulling himself free. Ian splayed out a hand to hold himself and let his head tip back, instantly feeling so much better as the pressure drained from his body, then tucked himself back away. He took a step back as he closed his pants and turned around to walk back through the wood toward the trail he’d split from, with other intentions still dancing through the back of his head. 

His attention was caught for just a moment when he spotted someone laying on the ground nearby and instantly had an instinctual concern to take a closer look and make sure they were okay, as he could only see a single pair of legs from his current angle. Ian took a few steps to peer around a bush and saw an outstretched blanket with a man and woman wrapped up atop it, peacefully sleeping in the shade. He stopped his feet instantly, and couldn’t help but smile a bit at the couple, with how sweet and content they looked, then took a step back to be on his way, not at all wanting to invade their privacy. It was still early after all. 

Ian kept a great mood and held his head high as he passed through the trail along with many others and entered the main field, which was already buzzing brightly with activity, a comfortable crowd of people mingling together, almost as if they’d never stopped at all. He could smell more food cooking from the same corner of the field as before, and although his stomach let out a rumble as each and every scent that wafted out into the air, trying to lure him in, Ian still had other things on his mind that felt much more important. They persisted in a way that he just couldn’t ignore, erupting his lungs with tiny bursts of flutters that made his head feel airy. So, food would just have to wait. 

He really wanted to take a walk around the festival, just sort of take a quick search to see if Mickey happened to be up and awake yet. With it being hardly eight in the morning and remembering that when he’d parted with the man, he hadn’t seemed very tired, Ian knew not to be disappointed if he couldn’t find him, assuming he fell asleep much later than himself. He could still be sleeping and Ian didn’t mind waiting, but he still sort of just wanted to look, wanted to ease his curiosity just a bit. 

As he made his way up and down each aisle, past each booth and through more gatherings of people, Ian just looked, searching for a head of spikey pitch and a bold, blue stare, but couldn’t seem to find him. He walked out near each stage, only one which had a very small gathering, seated and talking to a band who sat with their legs dangling from the platform and tinkering with their instruments, but he didn’t see him there either. Then when his guts began to grumble with more ache and protest, he began to concede and slowly began to turn back around and make his way back toward where he knew there’d be food, figuring that perhaps Mickey really was still asleep after all. 

But he didn’t get far before he began to hear the faintest buzzing noise coming from somewhere nearby, a sound that he recognized having heard it himself a few times before, and began to peer around a bit harder, arching his neck and leaning back up on his toes to gaze over heads. He soon approached another tree line that had a few tents scattered about and a single fire pit when he saw what looked like a folding table, but a sturdy one, with a man laying across it on his stomach. The buzzing got louder as he got closer then saw the back of another man seated on a stool, down by the his feet with his hands at work etching something into his calf. 

Ian’s breath slowed as his eyes narrowed on the deep, dark blackness of the seated man’s hair, the crisp paleness of his skin and the broadness of his shoulders. Then he saw his arm reach out, flesh covered in red and orange flames, to the small space beside him to dip the needle of the rig into a small well of ink, before moving it back to his work. The redhead’s feet slowed as he began to round him, with a bit of space still between, not wanting to sneak up on the man, but still eager and excited to see him, already knowing exactly who he was. He caught a glimpse of the man’s sculpted, chiseled profile and paused for a moment, just wanting to look, seeing that he was now wearing a pair of thin, black framed, rectangular glasses, helping him focus on some of the finer details within the piece he was working on, with a cigarette burning in his mouth and he had a different ring in his lip. This one was still silver, but a hoop instead of stud with a small steel ball the rested right at the crease where his lips met and as he looked, Ian licked his own without realizing. 

Then the dark haired man seemed to catch a bit of movement from the corner of his eye, raised them for just an instant, but did a double take when he saw the tall, young redhead standing nearby. He split a smirk, arched his studded eyebrow and tipped his chin, causing Ian to suddenly straighten up and swallowed his nerves. 

“The fuck I tell your big, red ass about lurkin' around, eh?” Mickey asked in a friendly tone, appearing quite happy to see the other man again so very soon and glanced back at his face as Ian slowly stepped closer, “Cut the shit out,” he chuckled turning back to his current client, puffing on his cigarette with a small green rig buzzing within his black-gloved hand with a hum. The redhead smiled down at him as he stopped his feet again much closer by. 

“Sorry,” Ian offered, “I didn’t want to distract you,” he explained with a brief gesture toward his work. The other man smirked and arched his eyebrow a bit higher, keeping his eyes on what he was doing. 

“Can’t fuckin' help that,” Mickey countered with his smirk spreading into a grin, “Just don’t wanna be fuckin’ snuck up on, ya know?” the man added, then shot him another quick, handsome glance, “Better that I see ya fuckin' comin', man,” he said smoothly. 

Ian bit down on his lip a bit to cover a smile, then dropped his eyes to feel around for his cigarettes, trying to distract himself from the flutters, along with suddenly hoping he hadn’t accidentally squished them in his sleep. He thankfully found them unharmed and pulled one lose from his pack to place between his lips. Then he remembered he’d lost his lighter the night before and really didn’t wanted to dig around for another right now, causing him to bring his eyes back to the other man’s smoke, seeing it begin to burn quite low, and gestured with his brow. 

“Hey,” Ian said, earning him another glance, “Mind if I use that to light my cigarette?” he asked with a small point. 

Mickey chuckled again, gave his head a small shake and pulled one final hands-free drag from the cigarette before turning his head for a second, arching his neck a bit to offer it over. The redhead reached over to gently pluck it from his lips, catching his gaze for another instant before looking back down, letting Ian take a step back and light his own cigarette with it. He pulled a drag, and offered it back but the other man shook his head, so Ian simply turned and threw it into the fire pit.

Ian then looked back at Mickey, watching his hands work on filling the stripes of a growling, snarling tiger freshly inked into his clients leg, admiring the talent and attention to detail, smoking as he did so. He saw Mickey’s brow crease a bit as he held his focus for a few moments, then Ian decided to ask him a question, wondering if now perhaps wasn’t the best time to have found him after all.

“Since you’re busy, I could take off and come back,” Ian offered, causing the other man to crease his brow more deeply at the words and shoot him another glance, “I don’t wanna interrupt or anything,” he said, “Was thinking of grabbing some breakfast.” Mickey took a paper towel he had nearby to wipe some of the access ink off the fleshy canvas in front of him, and gave another sure shake of his head. 

“Nah man,” Mickey replied, then gestured to the tattoo with his brow, “This shit's just about fuckin' done anyway,” he informed him, continuing to fill in stripes along the tiger’s face with dark, black ink, then cocked his head, “You drink coffee?” Mickey asked with a curious tone and a sharply arching eyebrow. Ian creased his own brow and tilted his head. 

“I do,” he answered simply and the other man smirked again.

“You see that little blue tent down there? The one with the fuckin' line?” Mickey asked with a flick of his head and the redhead followed his gesture, raising his face to peer down away from the clutter of private tents toward a small clustering of vendors tents to focus on the royal blue one that stuck out on the corner. Ian tipped his chin with a single nod. 

“Yeah,” the redhead confirmed and looked back down at the tattooist in front of him. 

“Dude in there hands out fuckin’ coffee in the morning,” said Mickey, “No charge or trade, just for the fuck of it,” he shrugged a bit, “If uh, you wanna go get a spot in line,” he offered slowly, “I’ll have this shit all wrapped up, by the time ya get up there?” the dark haired man said questioningly, his voice pretty reserved, but sounding somewhat hopeful, causing the other man to smile a bit more, seeing that Mickey seemed just as eager to spend time with Ian as he was with him. The redhead nodded again easily, then pulled another drag from his cigarette and exhaled. 

“I can do that,” Ian replied, causing the dark haired man to split another smirk. 

“Alright,” he said, then chewed his lip a bit, the silver ring within it shining under the early morning sunlight, “Then uh, wanna have a fuckin' toke before we go eat?” Mickey asked with another curious tone that Ian tried not to blush or grin too widely at. 

He was quickly growing more excited at the offer, absolutely ecstatic that the other man seemed so genuinely interested in hanging out with him again today, no matter what it was they were going to be doing. He let his smile grow, unable to fight it down and smoked his cigarette some more. 

“Absolutely,” the redhead responded in a sure confident tone that earned him a very pleased glance and a sharply arched eyebrow, before Mickey looked back toward his hands and ran the tip of his tongue back across his lip ring. Ian licked his own lips again, flicked his head down the way, then cocked it.

“How do you take it?” he asked, referring to the coffee, but not realizing how extremely suggestive the question came off until he saw Mickey raise another sharp eyebrow of his own and appeared to somewhat fight down a grin and swallow a laugh.

“Strong,” Mickey answered smoothly, then bit down on his lip ring just slightly, sucked in his lip and gave a small single shouldered shrug, “But I like 'em sweet, too,” he added, keeping his eyes on his work. 

The redhead’s eyes flickered a bit at the words, trying not to over think the meaning behind them and instead focus on getting coffee, shifting his feet a bit to turn his body toward the grassy aisle of tents down along the pathway trickled with people and tipped his chin. 

“See you in a minute then,” said Ian and Mickey tipped his chin as well, stealing a final glance toward him as he turned away to stroll down to the coffee tent. And once again, the redhead just tried to ignore the way the flutters in his chest seemed dance under the gaze, quickening his steps hoping to outrun them. 

As he approached the bright, blue tent, Ian walked calmly to the end of the line to stand in wait, observing the faces in front of him as many bore somewhat different expressions from yesterday. Everyone still looked to be in a relatively good mood, though several stood with disheveled hair and tired eyes, some even still wrapped in the sheets and blankets they’d slept in the night before, clearly eager for their morning cup of joe. Others were still wide awake with bright smiles and amped up voices, ready to keep the party going, even if they hadn’t slept at all yet. But everyone was polite and civil, despite whatever current state they were in, moving patiently through the line and nodding with grateful smiles and genuine thank yous as each cup was passed out. He finished his cigarette as the line crept forward, snuffed the butt out on his shoe and tossed it into a trash bin, ready to get their coffee and walk back down to Mickey. 

When it was Ian’s turn at the front, he was met by an older man with thick, grey mustache and large square glasses who nodded easily when the redhead asked for two cups of coffee, then watched as the man grasped the handle of a long, metal ladle within a big bubbling pot of black liquid that was brewing over a small fire pit within the space. The man placed two paper cups in a single hand and filled each one with the hot, steamy fluid, then turned back toward the younger man who stood in wait and passed them over. Ian thanked the man just as all the rest had, then turned to move toward a long wooden table that stood just beside the tent, and was lined with sugars and powdered creams, finding an empty space near the end to set down both cups and prepare them. 

He grabbed a small canister of vanilla flavored creamer and spooned a bit into his cup, but wasn’t sure if his new companion cared much for the flavor and thought it best to play it safe, sticking with the plain powdered creamer instead. Ian then poured some sugar in each cup, adding just a bit more to Mickey’s, then reached for a popsicle stick from a small box atop the table and gave them a stir, glancing up some to look back down to where he’d left the other man behind. 

The dark haired man had finished the piece, stood up from his chair and was now talking to his client, his glasses rested along his scalp line, after having wrapped up the fresh ink job. Ian watched him point toward the man’s leg as he spoke, presumably informing him on how to care for it, then saw his face split into a grin as his client handed over his payment for his work, which he quickly stuffed into his pocket with a nod of thanks that the other man easily returned. The redhead then saw him pull the thin, black set of frames from his head, grasp ahold of a black backpack that sat nearby on the ground and shuffled through it for their case to clasp them inside and tuck them away. 

Just as he saw him swing the pack over a single shoulder and turn to set his sights on the coffee booth, Ian turned his face away toward the cups in front of him, still trying to fight down a smile, not at all wanting to be noticed staring. He gave the cups another quick stir and grasped them to turn away from the table and meet Mickey, when he was suddenly halted by another face that simply made him fume. 

“You say you want to be left alone, yet still we find each other,” Jason smiled sweetly, nursing his own cup of brew in his hands and Ian clenched his jaw like a vice, “It must be fate,” he said. The redhead gave a thick scoff and rolled his eyes, really not wanting this asshole to ruin such a good morning. 

“No the fuck it’s not,” the redhead spat back bluntly, then moved to step around him, but was blocked when his ex took a step as well, holding his smile and looking him over. 

“You don’t have to hold on to this little grudge you have,” Jason informed him, still bearing a seemingly sweet and friendly tone, “Maybe this is the universe’s way of getting us to finally talk to each other,” he wondered aloud, “All this anger isn’t good for you,” he said with a headshake. 

The redhead felt his teeth grind together as he tried to control his grip around the paper cups in his hands, extremely displeased that his ex had found him again, especially after he’d told the man to leave him alone. His eyes flashed past him, seeing Mickey getting closer, with a slight crease now pressed into his brow, noticing Jason as well, seeing that he was speaking to Ian and didn’t look particularly happy about it, clearly seeing how uncomfortable Ian was with the interaction. The redhead then looked back at the blonde man in front of him, his expression heated, angry and snapped back rather harshly. 

“I don’t know what other way to get it through your head,” Ian began, speaking deeply through his teeth, “But when I say leave me alone,” he said, staring into his face to be sure the other man heard and understood him this time, “It means to leave me the fuck alone,” the redhead raised his eyebrows as he spoke, then cocked his head some, “I don’t wanna fucking talk to you, Jason,” he snapped out, “I don’t even wanna look at you ever again if I can fucking help it,” Ian sneered, “So fuck off.” Jason raised his own eyebrows, obviously quite surprised by the response despite it really being no different than the night before, then parted his lips to respond, just as another body approached. 

Mickey merely gave Jason a quick, sweeping glance, appearing very unimpressed with what he saw, then looked away just as quick to flash Ian a smirk and offered a chin tip as he stepped between them and only addressed the redhead. Ian saw his ex pause with his mouth held slightly agape, watching as the dark haired man arched an eyebrow at his redheaded ex-boyfriend and shrugged lightly. 

“Sorry about that shit, man,” Mickey apologized, “Just had to finish up, ya know?” he said. 

Ian nodded, making a small glance toward Jason who still stood looking rather confused, crossing his arms and staring at the new man beside them who simply ignored his gaze. Mickey arched an eyebrow toward the cups Ian was holding, who offered one out to him, trying not to feel at all awkward in front of his ex he did, not that he really cared what Jason thought about it anyway.

“Thanks,” Mickey grinned, raising the paper cup to his lips to sip on, then met his gaze again, letting his eyes trace delicately over his face, “Fuckin' perfect,” he breathed lowly and licked his lips.

Ian felt himself smile a bit, wonderfully distracted by the other man’s presence, but quickly frowned when he heard the blonde man standing nearby clear his throat rather expectantly. Mickey raised both brows, and turned his body toward Jason, giving him another brief, sweeping glance as if it was the first time he’d actually noticed him standing there, though clearly not at all caring that he was. Jason smiled again, then offered his hand to shake and tilted his head. 

“You are..?” he queried curiously, but the dark haired man simply dropped his eyes to his hand, not at all moving to accept the gesture, then sucked his teeth as he looked back into his face. 

“No one to you,” Mickey replied bluntly and Ian pressed his lips together with amusement, just trying not to laugh. The blonde man stuck his chin up and pursed his lips at the response, then slowly let his eyes fall back to the redhead. 

“Well, what I’m trying to say,” he continued, “Is that you don’t have to have to hold onto all this animosity,” said Jason, still not taking Ian’s advice to leave him alone, “I’m sure we could have a great time up here,” he suggested and Ian rolled his eyes, which Mickey clearly noticed him do, then looked back at the man who was still speaking, “And I know you don’t like going to things like this alone,” he said, causing the dark haired man to deeply crease his brow, take a quick glance at Ian, then look back.

“Who knows,” Jason added with a light shrug, “Maybe we could finally settle things between us,” he let his eyes trace over the redhead's face who was clearly quite angered, but still wasn’t budging, “I know how you feel about being alone,” Jason said a bit more quietly, earning both he and Ian a raised eyebrow from Mickey, now looking back and forth between them, “And you know you don’t have to be,” said his ex, still smiling in an uncomfortably sweet way, when Mickey suddenly split his face into an expression of utter ridiculousness, then turned his head back toward Ian. 

Then something happened that was so fast and so shocking, Ian couldn’t even think properly to really react to it. Suddenly Mickey's hand reached up to the back of Ian’s neck, grasped him and pulled, bringing his face down toward his in a quick, swift motion and planted a big, deep kiss right on his mouth. 

The flutters erupted, exploding through his chest, weaving through his ribs and climbing up his throat, almost instantly letting his eyes fall shut to enjoy the embrace. His lips were plump and soft, and even though there wasn’t any tongue, he just tasted so good as Mickey’s scent and flavor suddenly began pulsing through his senses and fogging up his mind. Ian brought his hand to Mickey’s wrist, as he held the back of his neck and let his thumb rub gently over the small patch of skin beneath it, just as the other man’s lips parted a bit more, softly released and he opened his eyes to meet Ian’s. He then took a small step back, dropped his hand and looked back over at Jason. 

“He don’t look too fuckin' alone to me,” Mickey observed with a cocky smirk, pointing at the redhead with his thumb. He then looked Jason over briefly once more, then sucked his teeth again before he pointed his index finger toward the ground and twirled it, “So, why don’t you move the fuck around now and find somethin' else to do, ” he suggested, “Cause he ain’t fuckin' interested,” said Mickey with a flick of his head in Ian’s direction.

Jason stood dumbstruck, with a look of shock and surprise painted all over his face, suddenly appearing at a complete loss for words as he looked back into Ian’s face looking for some kind of explanation. But the redhead simply raised his eyebrows and looked back down at Mickey with a small smile, still quite shocked by the act himself, but quite happily stunned as well. Mickey watched the blonde man for only a short instant, then scoffed with an amused, yet mildly annoyed expression and waved his hand toward him a bit. 

“Or just stand there like a fuckin' dumbass,” Mickey said bluntly, still looking at the man like he was completely pathetic and totally unwanted, then shrugged, “Nobody gives a shit, man,” he said, then met Ian’s eyes again and gave another slighter flick of his head to depart. 

The redhead glanced back at his ex, who appeared quite frozen in place and grinned, unable to contain how pleased he suddenly felt, just before Mickey moved to step around Jason and walk away. Ian easily followed, leaving the man motionless within his shock and set his focus on Mickey, quickening his steps to return his side, not at all wanting or bothering to look back.

As they walked along the edge of the festival toward the tree line to go smoke, Ian’s thoughts were racing, the flutters still dancing and he couldn’t seem to wipe the smile from his face, still effectively entranced within the memory of what just happened. Mickey had kissed him, actually kissed him, completely without warning or any preparation, yet it’d felt wonderful, amazing, absolutely incredible and Ian couldn’t seem to shake it. He sipped his coffee, stealing glances at Mickey who walked sipping his as well and the redhead couldn’t help but wonder why he’d done it, unable to figure out his reasoning. 

He’d been fairly certain a few times last night that Mickey had been shooting him signals and trying to give off some type of vibe for him to catch ahold of, but Ian hadn’t been positive, so he hadn’t acted on it. This made everything all the more questionable and confusing, not at all knowing where the other man’s head was at. Maybe he was just trying to help him out? After all, Ian had told Mickey a bit about Jason last night when they’d hung out. So the man knew that Jason was an ex, a clingy ex at that, that couldn’t seem to take a hint. Could that be it, a simple attempt to be helpful and get Jason to leave him alone? He really didn’t want to dwell or over think it, but the nerves in his mind were flaring and his heart was still pounding in a way that he just couldn’t ignore, distracting him more and more as they passed through the trees in silence, following Mickey out to whatever smoke spot he was bringing him to. Ian was going to find out why Mickey had done it, just needing to know if it had been something honest, or just some act for his ex, quietly hoping that it had in fact been something real, as unlikely as that was. 

Mickey led him toward another large tree trunk, with another downed mass of bark beside it, and sat within the nook of it, swinging off his backpack and setting his paper cup beside him on the ground. Ian followed suit in pulling off his pack and taking a seat as well, still wanting to ask about what happened but was still much too nervous and just couldn’t find the words. Instead he chewed his lip, dropped his eyes and just stayed quiet. The dark haired man unzipped his pack and began shuffling through it’s contents in search when he suddenly paused and looked over at Ian who tried to swallow his nerves. 

“You said you got some fuckin' bud too, right?” Mickey asked, which Ian nodded at in return and the other man tipped his chin. 

“Ya wanna break it the fuck out?” he queried further with an arch of his eyebrow, “I kinda wanna see if your shit's any good,” Mickey smirked, “Been a long ass fuckin' time since I smoked Chicago weed,” he said, causing the redhead to smirk as well, then immediately reached to shift his bag around within his lap, opening it to dig through as well. He retrieved his altoid can from it’s concealed little corner pocket of his backpack and grabbed his bowl case as well, then zipped his pack closed. 

“I think it is,” Ian replied with a small, smug smile, then very carefully opened the tin to pass over for the other man to inspect, who did so happily, taking a moment to look it over and suck a whiff through his nose that raised his eyebrows and split his smirk into a much wider smile. He looked back at Ian with a pushed out lip and a slight nod of approval, passing back the tin. 

Ian set it down atop the bag in his lap and unzipped the little, black case in his hand that held his pipe, the other man watching his movements all the while. The redhead packed the bowl, closed the tin, then fished around rather blindly for a lighter, finally finding one and passed the weed for the other man to take the first pull. Mickey took both the pipe and the lighter, but paused again to raise the pretty piece of blue and green glass closer up to his eyes to look over as well. 

“It’s a color changer,” Ian mentioned, “Turns purple,” he said, gazing over the blues of the other man’s eyes as they moved over the pipe within his hands, distracted once again by how deep and rich they were. 'Fuck,'

Mickey pushed his lip back out, gave another nod, then lowered it to his lips and sparked the lighter over it, watching the chamber as it slowly turned purple beneath the smoke. The other man chewed his lip and tried not to stare too much. He held his hit with a hard puff of his chest and scrunched his face up a bit, moving to pass it back to Ian. The redhead watched his face for a moment as he gave a hard exhale, followed by a small cough, then gave a single fisted pound to the middle of his chest, blinking a few times and smiling. 

“Really good shit,” Mickey noted with a deep, sure tone, very much approving of the crop and Ian chuckled, then took a long, deep hit as well, quite proud of the compliment. 

Then he paused a bit in thought as he lowered his hands and held his smoke, the kiss from the other man still tingling atop his lips and pulling at all his other thoughts. He really needed to know why the other man had done it, if it meant anything at all or had just been some type of favor, because even though he knew it was still fresh now, the memory and craving didn’t seem to give him any indication that it would disappear. Ian really did like Mickey and would be lying if he said he wasn’t interested, but he still really hadn’t been completely positive if that feeling was being reciprocated. Not to mention, it was an awkward thing to outright ask and finding the right words to do so was quickly proving to be extremely difficult. But Ian knew he had to address it, had to gather the courage to ask about it in some way or he would forever wonder what may have been and he knew that. He had to take a chance, in the only real way he seemed to be able to, and took a slow, deep breath as he turned his body just slightly to pass the weed back to Mickey. He met his eyes and swallowed. 

“You uh, you know you didn’t have to do that back there,” Ian said, sure to hold his sight as he spoke and trying not to sound too nervous or shy about it. Mickey took the pipe, along with the lighter, creased his forehead, then raised a single eyebrow in pause. 

“Do what?” he asked in a very curious and innocent tone. 

The redhead hesitated, as the other man held a very calm, but inquisitive expression, and he tried again to find the right words, even taking the opportunity to sip on his coffee a bit more as he did so. He really didn’t want to assume and he didn’t want to overstep, and the swarm of nerves that suddenly clogged his throat made him swallow again. As much as he would be beyond happy and excited to discover that Mickey could possibly have some interest in him as well, even if he didn’t, he really didn’t want to put the man off and risk him no longer wanting to spend any time with him while he’s up here. He genuinely enjoyed being around him and wouldn’t entirely mind settling for something platonic. Ian knew that Mickey probably had just been trying to help him out in some way, so he wasn’t going to get his hopes up thinking that there was anything more to it than that. 

The dark haired man looked over his face as he thought, patiently waiting as another amused smirk began to tug at the corner of his mouth and he finally raised the bowl back to his lips to light, his eyes staying on Ian as he did. The redhead combed his fingers through his hair and took another breath. 

“When you kissed me,” Ian replied slowly, a bit more quietly, staying strong to continue keeping his eye contact, needing to read the other man as he spoke, “I mean, I appreciate what you were trying to do,” he said upturning a single palm, sounding as genuine as he could, “But you really didn’t have to,” Ian repeated, trying to be clear, “You don’t have to like, pretend to be something you’re not, just to help me out,” he explained with half a shrug, dropping his palm into his lap. 

The dark haired man held the crease in his brow, sucking in a deep pull of smoke and held it, appearing to fight down either a cough or a chuckle, then exhaled. He turned to pass the bowl back, pressing his thumb into the embers so they wouldn’t burn, then met Ian’s eyes and smirked with a smoothly arched eyebrow and a slight shrug of his shoulder. 

“Who's fuckin' pretendin'?” Mickey queried rather nonchalantly, blue eyes sparkling between green and Ian suddenly felt all the breath squeeze from his lungs, quite taken aback. 

His fingertips fumbled over the pipe to grasp it, but he didn’t quite raise it to his lips, now just trying to process what the other man was telling him, still lingering in disbelief at the words. He started thinking once again of the night before, recalling each and every subtle glance and smirk the other man had shot his way, gestures that he’d been so sure he’d been imagining. Had they actually been real? Suddenly there was an anxious, tickling tingle beginning to spread over his skin and the flutters began to dance their way up his throat, distracting him some. Ian’s eyes flickered between Mickey’s for a few short, quiet seconds, as the latter held a rather amused expression, still looking him over in wait. Then the redhead creased his brow and parted his lips a bit. 

“You-,” Ian began, but stopped suddenly, almost nervous to outright ask despite what the man had just said, “You’re not,” he started again, holding his eye contact, “Gay?” Ian asked, saying the last word very slowly. Mickey chewed the corner of his lip, smirking a bit wider at the other man’s change in demeanor, noticing how extremely unsure he was and creased his brow just slightly.

“Why's that so fuckin' hard to believe?” Mickey asked back with a light chuckle and another small shrug, causing the redhead to blink a few more times and shrug as well. 

“You just don’t exactly strike me as the kinda guy who's into cock,” Ian replied honestly, letting himself chuckle a bit also and Mickey punched out a laugh. The dark haired man then raised his eyebrows, met his sight once more and tipped his head. 

“So, 'cause I’m a fag, you expect me to act like some fuckin' fairy?” Mickey queried further, still very much amused with the conversation, watching as Ian shifted a bit, vaguely fiddling with the pipe and lighter still resting in his hands, looking a little embarrassed by his assumption. He then chuckled again, gesturing toward him with his elbow, “I mean, you ain’t exactly shittin' fuckin' rainbows either, man,” he grinned with an arch of his eyebrow. The redhead combed the tips of his fingers through his hair, bringing his palm back to run down the back of his neck and managed a small, apologetic smile. 

“Sorry,” said Ian, but the other man simply waved him off, still in a very light mood and cocked his head. 

“Guess ya just shouldn’t judge a book by it’s fuckin' cover,” Mickey finalized with a handsome smirk, deep blue eyes still tracing over him with a gentle softness that made Ian’s breath slow all over again. 

He dropped his eyes to the bowl he was holding, finally bringing it to his lips to spark with the flame of his lighter, trying not smile over the spout as he did. Not only had things seemed to be going really well with Mickey, but now knowing that he was gay only excited Ian all the more, because now there was a possibility that maybe it could become something more. Of course, Ian still didn’t want to push things, didn’t want to rush it, knowing that they’d still only just met and had an entire world to learn about each other. But just knowing the chance was there, was enough for him, enough for now.

He pulled a deep puff of smoke into his lungs, holding it tightly in his chest as he passed the pipe again, now much more confident and comfortable watching the other man as he raised it to smoke as well. Green eyes moved slowly over his features, from the deep, blue sparkle of his eyes, down to the sharp cut of his jaw and along his chin, raising back up just enough to pause on his lips, watching the way they pursed with his hit. Ian let himself smile again, just looking, when Mickey turned to pass it and seemed to notice his expression, then raised a curious eyebrow. 

“The fuck is it?” Mickey asked, his amusement returning a bit. The redhead held his boost of confidence, kept his chin high and proud, then tipped his head and arched an eyebrow of his own. 

“You seeing anyone?” Ian queried back, trying not to sound as hopeful as he felt asking, keeping a seemingly innocent veil over his words. 

The dark haired man’s brow rose high with a sudden surprise at how forward the question was, but he didn’t hesitate and smirked all the same, letting his eyes fall rather appealingly down over the redhead's face and across his chest, then met his gaze again. 

“I’m lookin' right at ya, man,” Mickey replied lowly, smoothly, then rolled his tongue beneath his lower lip and bit down just a bit. 

Ian’s gaze flickered, taken aback yet again, realizing with the answer that his chances of finding something more with Mickey just seemed to get a whole lot bigger. He didn’t just have the happenstance of also being gay, but Mickey was actually interested as well and the redhead couldn’t quite believe his luck. Their eyes moved together, each paused once again and Ian couldn’t help but simply gaze over him, nor could the other man seem to resist doing the same.

So for a short moment, they just sat and looked, until an urge began to swell inside Ian’s chest, his lips began to tingle and he wanted just another small taste of the hint he’d given him before. The redhead’s gaze fell from Mickey’s eyes to his lips as he gathered his courage and began to very slowly lean forward, but the dark haired man saw him coming, split a cocky smirk and leaned back with a chuckle. 

“Aye,” Mickey halted in a friendly tone, “Just 'cause I’m gay, and I did ya a fuckin' favor, don’t give ya some kinda free pass to shove your fuckin' tongue down my throat,” he laughed lightly and Ian conceded with a small smile, each moving back to sit properly, then Mickey arched his pierced brow and trailed his eyes down over him again, “Gotta earn that shit,” he added a bit more lowly, catching his gaze again. The redhead held his smile, not at all feeling rejected and shrugged a single shoulder. 

“Fair enough,” Ian accepted easily, not the slightest bit intimidated by that challenge, now that he knew exactly where he stood with him. 

They sat together within their hidden, wooden nook continuing to talk, smoke and sip their coffee, even staying to share a cigarette once the bud had been cashed. They also stole obvious glances, subtle touches as they passed the smoke and traded smiles all the while, quickly growing more and more comfortable with each other and Ian especially was really feeling great about it. Then when the cigarette was gone, they each grabbed their cups, repositioned their packs along their backs and rose from the ground to walk back through the trees toward the rest of the masses. They emerged within the same general area they’d entered before and started down a lane of foot traffic that had already doubled in bodies. Mickey shot Ian a glance and raised a questioning eyebrow. 

“You still wanna get fuckin' breakfast?” he asked and Ian nodded as he felt his guts give a grumble.

“Yeah,” the redhead replied, bringing a hand to his stomach, causing the other man to nod.

“Good,” said Mickey, then directed them down another line of tents and other vendor’s booths, “Imma introduce ya to Vick and Agnes,” he elaborated, then met his eyes again and smiled, “You better be fuckin' hungry, man,” he advised with surety, then looked back ahead.

Ian crinkled his forehead a bit, but didn’t question it, simply staying by Mickey’s side as they moved through the growing shift. As they went, the redhead found himself glancing up toward the sky, enjoying the sunshine, but noticing a small, gray speckle of clouds begun to churn and loom. He creased his brow more deeply and looked away, just hoping they would pass. 

They soon met the end of an aisle, turning some toward yet another tree line, to a tented area tucked away in the corner that had a fair sized line outside it, and several thick plumes of cook smoke rising up to waft away on the wind above it. As they got closer, Ian saw this booth took up more space than many of the rest, but for obvious reasons. It was a large, long stretch of area with a tall, draped, makeshift shelter pitched behind it. The stretch had a counter where the line stood, and behind it there sat two immense rectangular skillets, with another circular one on the end beside a big, metal pot, all placed on metal racks just above steadily burning fires and pits of red, roasting ash coals. 

Ian then saw an older woman with pale skin, a faded array of ink across her limbs and long, grey braids flowing down her back, standing behind the counter at the first of the three skillets with her eyes down and her hands at work, serving each person who approached with a plate, offering a polite nod and sweet, toothy smile. He looked a bit further down the counter and saw an older man with dark, brown skin, glasses and a bandana wrapped over his brow to keep the sweat from getting in his eyes, at work just the same, adding more food to each plate placed in front of him. They didn’t seem to be charging anyone either, which surprised Ian, as much as he appreciated the gesture of kindness. He began to inhale slower, studying each luring wisp of scent that passed over his nose, when he was suddenly pulled from his delightful trance by the voice of the man next to him. 

“Agnes and Vick own a fuckin' farm,” Mickey told him, “They grow and raise all kinds a shit,” he added with a loose wave of his hand, “And they uh, always get a big ass fuckin’ harvest every year,” Mickey explained, then scratched the bridge of his nose with the back of his thumb, just as both their feet paused at the end of the line, “So, they bring the shit up here and fuckin' feed everybody with it. No charge or nothin',” he shrugged a bit, then smirked with a head cock and tipped his head toward the booth space, “Been doin' this shit since fuckin' Woodstock,” said Mickey, “Just to do it cause they fuckin' wanna,” he added with half a chuckle and a very impressed tone, causing the other man to push his lip out a bit, raise his eyebrows and nod, quite impressed as well, then cocked his own head. 

“You know them well,” Ian noted, glancing back toward the older man and woman still cooking at their skillets, then back at the man beside him, “They like family or something?” he asked curiously. Mickey thumbed his lower lip and shrugged again. 

“Somethin' like that,” he said. 

They crept forward as the line in front of them did, each still holding their cup of coffee but also grabbing a disposable plate and fork as they got closer to being served. Ian leaned up on his toes a bit, curious about what it was that smelled so good, only managing to see a small part of what was cooking. The first hot, metal sheet was lined with eggs, dozens of them and the woman easily took her big, flat spatula in hand and began flipping them all over, three or four at a time. She’d then look up with a smile spread across her lips and placed a single fried egg on each offered plate, as well as what looked to be some kind biscuit from the next skillet beside her. The redhead licked his lips and ignored another gut rumble.

Then it was their turn in front of the woman and the very instant her eyes landed on Mickey, her face immediately lit up with joy, letting out a sudden, happy sound of exclamation that widened Ian’s eyes, but the dark haired man simply pressed his lips together and scrunched his face up at. 

“You finally came to see me!” the woman gasped with wide batting eyes and her mouth dropped open with a smile and the young man in front of her tilted his head with a small smile of his own. 

“Everybody’s gotta fuckin' eat, Agy,” Mickey retorted, but the older woman quickly shook her head and waved off his words with her spatula. 

“Oh, cut the shit,” she shot back with a laugh, then set her utensil down on the edge of her cook space and gestured down toward all the other tents they’d passed to get here, “You coulda gone down to any one of them if you were just hungry,” Agnes countered, causing Mickey to purse his lips a bit as he fought down a widening grin, “Ya came down here because ya missed me, boy. Just admit it,” she demanded, raising her greying brows and crossing her arms over her chest, but Mickey just tipped his chin at her. 

“Your shit's free,” he smirked in a cocky tone, causing the old woman to roll her eyes and smack her lips, dropping one hand to rest on her hip while the other regrasped her spatula, then pointed it at him. 

“You’re a goddamn liar,” she accused with confidence and the young man laughed, tipping his head back as he did, as well as Ian just a bit, who couldn’t help but grin, “You don’t fool me,” said Agnes, then slid two eggs onto her utensil with a quick, scratchy scrape and gestured toward his plate, who raised it out to her, “Lucky for you I don’t hold grudges, so I’m still gonna feed your ungrateful ass,” she informed him through the corner of her mouth, then smiled as she slid his double order of eggs onto his plate. 

“Thank you, Agy,” Mickey returned politely, then shot Ian a glance who was quite entertained watching the conversation in front of him, just before he offered a small smile, then looked back at the cook. 

“Mmhmm,” Agnes hummed, reaching over with a pair tongs to retrieve a pan biscuit from the other skillet, but paused before she put it on his plate, looking right into his face, “But if you ever call my food 'shit' again, best know I won’t no more,” she stated with a serious expression, “You hear me, boy?” she asked.

The dark haired man pressed the lips of his grin together and nodded, which the woman accepted and handed over his biscuit. He then looked back at Ian who was taking a long drink from his coffee, still holding his empty plate and waiting, then rolled his tongue beneath his lip. The redhead smiled back, returning the other man’s gaze, just as the woman behind the counter seemed to notice their silent exchange and tipped her chin toward the young man who was a stranger to her. 

“Ya gonna introduce me?” she asked Mickey, still looking at Ian who quite calmly looked back at her, still just happy to be hanging out with Mickey again and fuck if he was just incredibly hungry and more than ready to eat. He smiled kindly in greeting just as the man beside him began to answer her query. 

“This is Ian,” said Mickey, his voice laced with a fondness that didn’t go unnoticed either, the woman smiling a bit wider and raising her eyebrows as she looked between them, “Just fuckin' met yesterday,” he said, still letting himself look over the redhead at his side, his gaze very openly lingering, “Ian, this is Agnes,” he said lightly, but didn’t explain much further. The redhead could tell there a bond there of some kind, but if the other man wasn’t ready to share what it was, Ian wasn’t going to ask or pry. He looked from Mickey, back to Agnes and gave a small nod. 

“Hello,” he offered, causing the woman to tip her chin again and look him over some as well, then dropped her eyes to scoop another double of eggs onto her spatula. 

“I think a boy your size could use two eggs too,” she smiled as she slid them onto his plate, “To keep your energy up,” Agnes added with a playfully suggestive waggle of her brow and shot him a wink. Ian wasn’t expecting the comment or the gesture, but swallowed his nerves, feeling the subtle tickle of Mickey’s gaze still moving softly over his face and managed a rather convincing chuckle and a nod, then took a chance with comment of his own.

“I hear they’re good for stamina too,” he quipped back and noticed Mickey drop his face a bit and smirked wide. The older woman cackled with a bit of a crack, rather liking that retort and looked back at the other young man. 

“I like him already,” she said with a crooked smile, taking another look at the redhead before addressing Mickey again, “Hang onto that one for a bit, huh?” Agnes urged lightly, causing Mickey to simply rub a palm down his face, looking a little embarrassed perhaps, but Ian merely chuckled again at the comment. The woman then took a glance down the line, seemingly seeing how many people were still assembled in wait for breakfast, when she leaned forward along the counter and spoke to Mickey a bit more lowly. 

“Hey uh, Vick's got a present for ya,” she whispered with a wink, “So be sure to go down and say hello,” advised Agnes, causing Mickey to raise his brow and suddenly look rather pleased. 

“Is it what I fuckin' think it is?” he queried, his voice laced with a slight excitement that Ian could only continue to smile at. The woman pursed her lips and tilted her head with a blink. 

“You’ll have to go and see,” she said upturning a single palm with a small shrug of her shoulder. Mickey split a wide smile and looked back at his redheaded acquaintance and flicked his head down the line to where the older man stood stirring a pot and hovering over a big round cast iron. 

“Come on, man,” he invited which Ian instantly nodded at to follow, offering the woman a small gesture of thanks, as well as Mickey before they both parted from her to speak with the other cook at work. 

The redhead followed the other man down a few paces, their movement now bringing the line back into motion and they slowed again quite quickly. Mickey paused in front of the man who had his face turned down, frying up a mixture of thickly cut bacon, sliced bell peppers and large chunks of onions. He then reached over once again to stir the pot beside him, which was filled with what appeared to be beans of some kind, when the dark haired man suddenly cleared his throat and the older man raised his head at the sound. 

Much like the woman, when the older man’s eyes met Mickey’s they brightened in a genuinely happy way as he split a wide, gleeful smile and adjusted the large square frames on his face with a squint. He began to laugh with the same joy the woman had shown just a few moments ago, and reached out to grasp Mickey’s shoulder, giving it a friendly squeezing shake. 

“Good to see you, Mickey,” he grinned, causing the younger man to smile and tip his chin in return.

“How ya doin', Vick?” Mickey asked and the other man released his shoulder, glancing down in front of him to stir around the bacon and peppers. 

“Great, really great,” Vick replied, nodding as he spoke, “Everything grew well this year and had plenty to spare,” he smiled, then gestured with his head and elbow back behind him to a small area that Ian hadn’t noticed before, “And Sally's finally big enough for slaughter, the ol' girl,” he smiled with a glance behind his shoulder, which the younger men in front of him followed with their eyes.

Beside the tent space, within a small quick-pitch wooden fence, there was a large, spotted hog fast asleep beside a water trough, snoring away within a patch of grass. Ian creased his brow a bit and looked at Mickey who smiled and pushed out his lip with a nod. 

“She’s gonna be fuckin' delicious,” Mickey praised and Vick gave a confident nod of agreement. 

“Fuck yeah she is,” the older man laughed, then scrapped a scoop of peppered bacon onto his spatula to place on Mickey’s plate, “Gonna have the roast in a couple nights,” he added as he reached for the bean ladle, offering a scoop of those as well, that the dark haired man grinned at and Ian’s stomach rumbled to eat, “Be sure to come by, ya hear?” asked Vick. Mickey cocked his head and arched an eyebrow. 

“Do I ever fuckin' miss one?” he queried back rhetorically and the older man laughed again, moving to fill Ian’s plate as well, giving him a small nod as he did so. 

Ian stayed quiet, not at all wanting or feeling the need to intrude, much more focused on the food in front of him, eager to walk on and indulge. But, he was nothing if not patient, so he just stood in wait. Then the dark haired man tilted his head to the other side, with a small glance down toward Agnes before looking back at Vick. 

“Aye, uh, Agy said ya had somethin' for me?” Mickey informed him with a curious, yet excited tone, causing the old man to meet his eyes, then immediately turn them on Ian. The dark haired man followed his gaze and instantly waved him off with a loose palm shake, “He’s cool,” Mickey defended quickly, “He’s with me.” Vick eyed him skeptically for a short moment, then raised a sly brow toward Mickey. 

“Oh, he’s with you?” he repeated in a very particular tone that Mickey rolled his eyes at, but didn’t look horribly bothered by. 

“Just a fuckin' buddy, Vick,” Mickey countered lightly, “But yeah, he’s fuckin' cool,” he insisted, “Don’t gotta worry about him,” he said. 

Ian tried to hold a very calm, innocent expression, despite how confused he suddenly was as the older man eyed him silently once more, then peered down the line to see that Agnes had held someone else up in conversation. He looked back at the two young men who stood waiting before he set down his spatula, raised a single forefinger in instruction, then turned to disappear through a split in the sheeted tent behind him. Mickey turned his head a bit to meet Ian’s eyes and shot him a smirk, then took a sip of his coffee, which the redhead mirrored while they remained patient and quiet.

Then Vick suddenly re-immerged from within the slip with a large brick shaped object in his hands that was wrapped in brown paper and tied tight with twine. The dark haired man's eyes visibly brightened a bit and he immediately moved to set his plate and coffee down atop the counter to swing his backpack off his shoulder. The redhead watched as the older man took a few steps forward and reached out in offering. 

“Crop came early this year,” said Vick as he passed the package over. The younger man took it from him with a wide smile and a grateful nod, then tucked it away inside his pack. 

“You’re the fuckin' best, man,” Mickey said in thanks, and the older man laughed again. 

“Enjoy it,” Vick advised with a smile, then adjusted his glasses moved to handle cooking the food once more, “Just come back through sometime, huh?” he added, “It’s real good seein' ya, kid,” Vick said looking him over fondly in a way similar to that of a proud parent laying eyes on their child, just like Agnes had. Even though Ian didn’t understand it, he found it very sweet to witness, glad that Mickey had that kind of support system. So he simply smiled lightly at the display, still standing at Mickey’s side as the man readjusted his backpack and retrieved his food and coffee. 

“For sure,” Mickey replied, then took a few steps back, the redhead following his lead, “I'll be back around, Vick,” he assured. The old man tipped his chin in acknowledgement, then gave a wave with his spatula and they were off again. 

As they walked back through the festival, they finished their coffee, tossed their cups and enjoyed their fresh cooked breakfast, which was just fucking delicious, and simply kept pace talking with each other as they wandered. Before long, they’d finished their food as well, both quite satisfied from it and began to share a cigarette, and that’s when other people suddenly started to approach them. Several people walked up to Mickey inquiring if he was free for any work, and when the first one asked, the dark haired man chewed his lip and flashed Ian an almost questioning glance. But Ian easily upturned a palm toward the person in question, gesturing for him to go right ahead and that he didn’t mind at all. So, Mickey tipped his chin and pulled his pack from his shoulders to sort through his equipment, apply a pair of black rubber gloves, put on his glasses and got to work. 

Ian was simply fascinated. He got to see Mickey give several people small, quick tattoos of all kinds of various images, words and designs, nothing of which he used a stencil for. His freehanded work was incredible, fluid, precise and he didn’t make any mistakes. While etching a lily into a blonde woman’s neck, he mentioned that he usually only made stencils for larger pieces, even if he didn’t think he necessarily needed one, stating he just wanted to be sure he never fucked anything up. The redhead also saw him give several different piercings, even letting people skim through his stock of rings he had stored in a tackle box type case and with ear piercings, letting them choose between a needle or the gun. He was very friendly, professional and charged fairly with every single client he had and Ian just couldn’t stop admiring him for that, among so many other things. It’d been quite the thing to watch and the redhead was quite happy that he’d been given the opportunity to hover and observe the way he had. 

After a couple hours, Mickey announced he was taking a break and thanked everyone for the work, which he easily received thank yous for in return. Ian also noticed how careful the other man was in disposing of all his material waste properly, wondering just a bit if perhaps what he’d said to him the night before might have stuck. He smiled lightly as he watched him throw it all away, clasp his glasses within their case to tuck within his backpack and swing it back onto his shoulder. Mickey walked back to Ian’s side, then tipped his head down the way and together they went. They strode in relative silence for a few minutes until Mickey gave him a light nudge with his elbow. 

“First show of the fuckin' day's gonna be startin' up in a bit,” he said, “You in?” Mickey asked. Ian gave a nod and met his eyes. 

“Fuck yeah,” Ian replied with a grin and a sure, firm tone, causing the other man chuckle, then smile with approval and tipped his chin toward the pathway that connected the fields. 

“I just gotta drop my shit off first,” Mickey said, then peered over at the man next to him, eyeing his backpack and gestured to it with his brow, “You can drop your shit off too if ya want,” he added, then chuckled again, “Way fuckin' easier to jump around without it,” Mickey explained, causing Ian to nod once more. 

“Probably a good idea,” Ian agreed, “Where do you wanna meet back up?” he queried. Mickey’s brow creased and his face scrunched up into a confused expression. 

“The fuck ya talkin' about?” the other man asked back and the redhead raised an eyebrow, confused as well. 

“After I go drop my shit off,” Ian elaborated, then pointed a single finger in the general direction of where he and his friend’s tents had been pitched, “I got a tent out there,” he said, “Should only take me a couple minutes,” the redhead shrugged. The other man rolled his tongue beneath his lip, flashing his ring just a bit, then thumbed it and arched his eyebrow with a point of his own. 

“I got a fuckin' van that’s probably closer to end of the trail,” Mickey informed him, then shrugged lightly and let his sight wander over him a little bit, “If ya wanna save some fuckin' time,” he added a little lower, almost laced with a bit of hesitance and the other man split a small smile, not at all wanting to turn the offer down. 

“Oh,” said Ian, “Sure,” he nodded as they entered the trail and walked toward the other field, “That works too,” he smiled, which was returned by a small smile from Mickey as well, just before they both faced back ahead and continued on their way. 

As they passed through the branchy little arch, Mickey moved to direct Ian left toward the vehicles instead of right toward the tent area and began weaving through other cars and trucks toward the back into a tucked away space in the corner. When they closed on the space, Ian saw a light blue van with no windows, save for two curtained ones on the back door and white paint splayed into a design along it’s side. It looked the painting of a large wing, spread back in flight, with a few lost feathers trailing away from it and a few small birds fluttering around behind it near the tail lights. As they rounded it near the back, Ian could see that the other side matched pretty closely, all the lines beautifully intricate, yet roughly marked out as if they’d been spread during some emotion fueled haste. But the redhead didn’t ask about it as the dark haired man moved toward the back tire to reach around within the well, nor did he try to admire it too closely and risk the other man noticing. 

Mickey stood back up straight with a key in his hand, gave Ian a smirk and walked back toward the door to slip his key inside the lock and twist to pop the latch. It swung open with a scratchy metallic creak, and Mickey’s eyes suddenly went wide with annoyance and rage. 

“What the fuck?!” he boomed in a punch and Ian instantly arched his neck around the door to look inside as well. 

Inside the van, there was a man laying on his back with his shirt off and his pants wrapped around his knees. Sitting atop him was a very sweaty and very naked Mandy, who simply twisted around to see her brother standing there with his jaw dropped, then suddenly burst out laughing. The man she was sitting on, perched himself onto his elbows, met Mickey’s gaze and gave a very simple, nonchalant tip of his chin. 

“Sup, Mick?” he greeted. The dark haired man huffed through his nose, ran a palm down his face, then swung both doors of the van as wide open as they went and pointed impatiently with his thumb. 

“Not you, asshole,” Mickey sneered with a hard, hot glare, “Not in my shit,” he snapped with a head shake, then passed his glare between them, “Get the fuck out,” Mickey ordered bluntly, “Both of ya.”

The couple in the van exchanged a few giggles, but obediently moved to dress and exit all the same, clearly not wanting to upset the man anymore. But as much Ian completely understood why Mickey was upset, it was a rather amusing predicament, so he just refrained from letting a laugh slip. Mandy and the man that Ian assumed was Ryan climbed out from the vehicle to stand in the grass, when the woman stuck her chin up toward her brother. 

“It’s not like we were on your fucking sheets or anything,” she said crossing her arms, “We moved all your shit,” Mandy said, her neck rolling a bit. Mickey scoffed and arched his eyebrows sharply with irritation. 

“I don’t give a fuck,” he countered bluntly, then shot another glare toward the lanky, brown haired man who stood beside her, “Shithead brought a fuckin' tent,” Mickey reminded them, “Go fuckin' pitch the shit,” he directed with a swat of his hand. 

“Couldn’t find any spaces,” Ryan piped up in a dumb, lazy tone and Mickey screwed up his face at the response. 

“Why is that my fuckin' problem?” he asked, looking over at the man with an extremely ridiculous expression and Ian couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped his lips. 

Both Mandy and Ryan turned their heads to see Ian standing nearby, the man with a face of confusion, but the woman with a happy, surprised smirk and she immediately moved to greet him. 

“Hey you,” Mandy said sweetly and reached to grab his hand, “I missed you last night,” she admitted with a wink.

Ian stole a glance at Mickey, seeing him scoff again lightly, shake his head, then turn to shift his pack from his back and place it inside the van. The redhead then looked back down at the woman in front of him and gave an apologetic smile. 

“Yeah, sorry about that,” said Ian, then tipped his head toward the black haired man rummaging through his van, “Kinda got side tracked,” he confessed, causing the woman to smile. 

“I know,” said Mandy, then arched an eyebrow, “I told ya you guys would get along,” she smirked. Ian returned her smirk just as she leaned in to hug him. 

“Still,” she insisted with a small squeeze which the redhead returned easily, as amusing as it suddenly was, “I missed your ass all night,” said Mandy, causing Ian to chuckle and give her shoulder blade a rub. Suddenly the woman’s boyfriend took a step forward, bearing a frown and glared over the redhead’s face, then back and forth between them. 

“You were with Mandy last night?” Ryan queried with a head cock and a hard suck of his teeth.

Ian creased his brow at the question, then looked back at Mickey once more, seeing the man simply roll his eyes, then cross his arms as he leaned against the corner of the van to watch the conversation. He remembered the dark haired man telling him that his sister’s boyfriend wasn’t very bright, so he was pretty sure he knew what the man was already assuming about him, but he didn’t back down.

“Yeah,” Ian replied smoothly, then smiled down lightly at the woman who was now taking a step back from his chest, “Had a few beers and did a lot of fucking dancing,” he elaborated with a light chuckle, “Had a great fucking time,” said Ian, causing Mandy to split a proud, flattered smile. But Ryan didn’t appear to be very happy with that reply as he frowned more deeply, took another step and began to crack his knuckles. 

“You tryin' to get in her fuckin' pants or some shit?” he spat in a snap and Mickey covered his mouth with a fist, clearly trying not to laugh, but Ian didn’t skip a beat, scoffing himself and cocking his head. 

“Maybe if she lost the tits and grew a cock,” he retorted, raising his eyebrows, causing the dark haired man, as well as his sister to openly begin laughing. Mickey clutched his chest and calmed. 

“He’s gay, ya fucknut,” said Mickey, “What he wants ain’t in her fuckin' pants,” he added, his tone very suggestively laced as he flashed Ian an arched eyebrow and a subtle bite of his lip. The redhead shot the man a smirk as well, then looked back at Ryan who now looked surprised, as well as a little embarrassed. He shifted his feet awkwardly and flickered his eyes away. 

“My bad, man,” he offered, which was merely returned with a chuckle and a head shake. 

“What the fuck ever,” Mickey interjected, “Shit really ain’t none of your business anyway,” he said, then pointed at him, “Just stay the fuck away from my van,” Mickey ordered firmly, then looked at his sister, “I fuckin' mean it,” he said. Mandy rolled her eyes but accepted and agreed, then her brother cocked his head and raised another eyebrow. 

“How the fuck did you even get in?” he asked, “Shit was locked,” said Mickey. The young woman simply pursed her lips and tried to look innocent. 

“I may have left the passenger door unlocked when I got out,” Mandy answered lightly causing Mickey to frown again. 

“Don’t fuckin' do that,” he demanded, pointing his finger in her face, “Or next time, Imma leave your ass up here,” Mickey threatened, but the girl only nodded again, not appearing bothered by the comment at all, then left Ian’s side to grasp her boyfriend’s arm and pull him. 

“Okay,” she conceded, her voice drenched in sarcasm, “Going now,” Mandy smiled, then turned away to walk across the field, dragging Ryan with her. 

Both men watched them go for just a brief few seconds before Mickey turned back toward the rear of his van and Ian took a few steps forward, now wiggling out of his backpack to toss it inside. As Ian moved to step around the door, the other man began to crawl inside to move things around, seemingly to rearrange everything back to as it should be. He had mostly artwork, along with a few random band posters plastered all over the interior, including the ceiling and even a small placement of shelves along one side. There was net hung in one corner filled with folded clothes and various arrangements of other possessions and personal items all neatly gathered and cluttered around the space.

If the redhead didn’t know any better, he’d say the van even looked 'lived in' in a way, comfortable and complete in it's own, and Ian wondered if perhaps at one point, Mickey’s van had actually been his home. He would never judge a man for such a thing, having been in similar situations himself, but he still wondered. Ian watched Mickey reposition a few cushions and a blanket, redeeming the inside's original layout, then sat and looked up at him. 

“I fuckin' hate when they do that shit,” he breathed, “Fuckin' nasty,” Mickey said with a very grossed out shudder of his limbs, causing Ian to chuckle as he placed his bag inside. The other man saw him set it very close to the door, almost cautious to come inside and he smirked, then reached for his bag, “Give me that,” he requested, which Ian passed without pause. Mickey grabbed it by a strap and moved over to place beside his own, then Ian shrugged. 

“At least she means well,” said Ian, earning him a very flat expression from the man seated in front of him, but he merely upturned a palm, gesturing to the items within the space that had just been replaced, “She did move all your shit,” he vouched, but Mickey just scoffed thickly through his nose and gave a firm shake of his head. 

“Nah man,” Mickey countered quickly, “She’s done that kinda shit before,” he said, “I’m out workin' so she just fuckin' helps herself to my shit,” he gestured around, “There’s plenty a places out here to go fuck,” said Mickey, “She don’t need to come fuckin' contaminate all my shit.” Ian laughed, then nodded in understanding, letting his eyes linger a bit and smiled some. 

“It was really cool watching you work,” said Ian, “You’re very talented,” he complimented, his voice laced with praise. The other man grinned and tilted his head. 

“All that shit was just fuckin' simple stuff, man,” Mickey denied, waving him off, then tongued his lip ring a bit, “The toughest part a today so far, was that dude who wanted a fuckin' tongue ring, then screamed like a little bitch when I pierced him,” he chuckled with a handsome bounce of his shoulders, “Like I fuckin' know that pain tolerance is different for everyone or whatever, but shit man,” Mickey laughed some more and shook his head again. 

“Tongue piercings can fucking hurt,” Ian objected, though he still shared in his amusement of the event. The other man shrugged again and met his eyes. 

“I’ve pierced a lotta fuckin' tongues,” Mickey stated with confidence and surety, “Ain’t never fuckin' heard nobody sound like that,” he laughed. The redhead shrugged as well, then crossed his arms to lean against the side of the doorway. 

“When I got mine done, I couldn’t talk for two fucking days,” Ian quipped back, causing the other man to crease his forehead and drop his eyes down to his mouth. 

“You ain’t got no tongue ring,” said Mickey. 

“I haven’t worn a ring in a really long time, but I got it pierced,” he explained, then rolled his tongue beneath his cheek and the roof of his mouth, feeling for the opening on each side, “I guess I don’t really know if it still is,” the redhead admitted. A rather intrigued smirk began pulling at the corner of Mickey’s mouth as he looked him over and thought a moment, then arched his studded brow. 

“Wanna find out?” he queried, the tip of his own tongue playing with the ring in his lip once more and Ian smiled through the flutters and tipped his chin. 

“Sure,” he replied, then Mickey flicked his head, directing him to come further inside which he did. The other man reached to grab his bag, zipped it open to retrieve his case full of body jewelry and shifted forward a bit. He opened it, then set it down in front of the redhead and pointed to a particular section packed full of tiny, clear, sterile envelopes and thumbed his lower lip. 

“These ones are tongues,” he said, then Ian nodded and began to take a look. 

There were several designs and many different kinds, with some longer, others shorter, some plain and some flashy. He paused on one that was long and silver, but one ball at the end of the barbell had smooth little grooves lined around it, and subtle little studs in between. Ian raised it to his eyes and began to inspect it when Mickey noticed which ring he had and quickly spoke up.

“Aye, you uh, probably don’t want that one, man,” he informed him, but Ian only raised an eyebrow. 

“Why don’t I want it?” Ian asked. The other man scratched the bridge of his nose with the back of his thumb, glanced at his eyes, then looked back at the stud. 

“It’s just a little fuckin' different,” Mickey explained vaguely, another smirk tugging at his mouth. The redhead began to smirk as well, his curiosity rising as he held it up and pushed a little further.

“Different how?” he queried. The dark haired man began to chuckle, thumbed his lip again and shot him a glance. 

“That one, uh, vibrates,” Mickey said, then clicked his cheek, which made the other man raise both his eyebrows, not quite expecting that. He looked back down at the little piece of metal between his fingers, then peered back up at Mickey with a sly, smug expression. 

“So, are you saying that I can’t pick this one?” asked Ian. The other man kept his brow arched, slowly dropped his eyes back to Ian’s mouth and licked his lips. 

“Ain’t fuckin' sayin' that at all,” Mickey answered smoothly looking back into his eyes, then upturned a palm and pushed out his lip. The redhead tore the seal and dumped it out into his palm to look over again so he could try and put it in. 

“How does it work?” Ian queried and the other man tipped his brow pointedly toward the piercing. 

“The smooth side comes off so you can put it in,” Mickey explained, “You twist the fuckin' textured side to turn it on,” he said. 

Ian fumbled with it for a moment, giving the small textured ball a twist, feeling it begin to softly buzz and hum, then turned it back off. The dark haired man held quite an interested expression, watching and waiting to see if the other man would be able to wear it or not. It only took a moment to find out the answer as Ian removed his fingers from his tongue and rolled it back around inside his mouth, earning him a smile. 

“Looks like it’s still open,” said Ian and Mickey smirked, still holding the arch in his eyebrow. 

“Yeah, looks like,” he agreed, looking quite pleased at the fact, which only made Ian try his hardest not to blush. 

“How much?” Ian gestured to his mouth, but the other man just shook his head. 

“Don’t fuckin' worry about it,” he said. Ian smiled and Mickey returned it easily. Then they both just looked for a moment with a heavy, hazy tension lingering between them, before Ian suddenly broke their gaze with a glance outside. 

“When’s the show supposed to start?” Ian asked, causing the other man to shrug somewhat. 

“Probably pretty fuckin' soon,” said Mickey, then reached to close case full of metal and tuck back away into it’s proper place, “S'pose we can fuckin' head that way,” he offered. 

Ian nodded, then moved to scoot out from the space and stand. The dark haired man followed him out, swung the door closed, then made sure to lock the passenger door before replacing his key. He strode back to Ian’s side who was suddenly preoccupied with his face titled toward the sky, quietly studying the grey gathering of clouds above. The redhead dropped his head away from the sight and looked at the man beside him. 

“Looks like rain,” Ian noted. Mickey glanced up toward the sky as well, before very quickly dropping his eyes back to Ian and shrugged a single shoulder.

“Little rain never stops the Warp, man,” he said with a smirk, then flicked his head toward the pathway, “Let’s go,” said Mickey, blue eyes sparkling and shimmering over him and Ian couldn’t really think to do anything else, not that he wanted to anyway and moved to walk back across the field with Mickey, just as requested. 

They passed through the flow of the path and made their way through the other field to gather with so many others who all stood and mingled in wait before a scatter of stage roadies and other equipment hands all scrambled to cover the tops of speakers and monitors with tarps and plastic sheets. Where there had been grass yesterday, there was now a stomped down stretch of dirt, packed tight from all the feet stepping over it. The crowd began to rock harder and scream louder just as three musicians appeared from backstage and began to take their places atop the platform. 

Mickey was quick in his movements, and just like before grabbed Ian’s hand in his, then moved to weave through the other bodies into a better spot for the show. As they passed through the mass, the wind began to whip a bit more harshly and Ian swore felt the faintest sprinkle of water on his face, but he ignored it all and stayed with Mickey, certain not to lose his grip on him. The dark haired man brought him back near the middle and released his grip, but stayed close, neither letting anyone else move between them, then set their eyes on the stage. The band settled and the lead singer approached the mic, then gave his guitar a single strum, drawing out a mess of cheers and screams from below him. 

Then at the very same instant the band began to play, the spikey, painted man in front of them began to wail into his microphone, the churn of blackened clouds above suddenly crashed together with a loud, roaring boom, releasing a near downpour atop the entire festival. The swarming sea of people erupted like nothing Ian had ever seen before as the rain began to shower over them and everyone began to surge and jump and mosh, feeling as though he may suddenly disappear amongst the chaos. It was incredible, amazing, unbelievable how instantly his mind pushed everything else away and cleared his head so swiftly. He didn’t give a fuck about anything in that moment and it was just a blast. 

The ground beneath their feet quickly dampened, sloshed and turned into a thick, brown mud, causing people to slip, slide and grab ahold of each over to avoid being trampled underfoot and forgotten within the muk. Even Mickey, who had still managed to stay beside him suddenly lost his footing coming down from a jump and Ian had reached out to grab his arm, pulling him into his chest so he didn’t fall. The dark haired man then paused, let his eyes fall over him, then arched an eyebrow and bit his lip as he placed a single hand on Ian’s chest and took a small step back. The redhead’s throat clogged with flutters under the gaze and he split a small smile. 

Then Ian suddenly saw a flash of something go whipping right past his head and he turned to see someone else’s get splattered right in the chest with a big, brown glop of mud. The redhead couldn’t control the laugh that burst out of him in reaction. But then almost all at once, it became an all or nothing free for all with fistfuls of mud clumps hurling across the crowd in all directions, quickly becoming one filthy, epic war zone. And through the whole thing, the band played on, their harsh, fast pound of a beat pulsing with the thunder above and fueling the raging, muddy sea. 

In a matter of a few short minutes Ian glanced down at his clothes only to find them smudged thick with a soft, cakey mud and he raised his face to the man next to him, finding him appearing very much the same. Mickey split a wide grin that Ian mirrored, each taking in how the other looked covered in filth. Then Ian creased his brow as he watched Mickey begin to arch a very mischievous eyebrow, just before he raised his hand to swing a glob of mud right at Ian’s face, causing him to turn it and brace himself. When he felt it splatter, it was thick and cold, shocking him a bit and dropping his jaw as he slowly turned his head back to look at the other man who still held a big, cocky grin. The corner of the redhead’s mouth began to pull up as he raised his own hand to smear some the mud off his cheek, then threw it back at Mickey. The dark haired man let out a laugh as he moved out of the way, then turned to make an escape, but Ian was on him. 

Mickey pushed through some and twisted around others, glancing back every few seconds at the redhead on his heels, both men laughing and sliding around in the mud throughout the pursuit. Ian kept reaching for him, but failing each and every time as the other man kept swiftly moving away from his grasp, before finally they hit a clearing and the redhead managed to get a grasp on the back of the other man’s shirt, causing them both to slip, slide and go crashing down into a mud puddle.

Instantly Mickey grabbed another handful of mud and whipped it at his companion, who raised his arm as a shield and returned the shot with a sloppy, wet handful of his own. It quickly escalated further, now beginning to wrestle around within the pit, each trying to cover the other in the most slime they could, fighting for dominance and flipping each other around, not at all pausing or caring to notice anyone who may have stopped to watch them engage in their ridiculous battle. 

“You think you’re so fuckin' tough,” Mickey grumbled through his grinning teeth, wiggling and squirming around beneath Ian, trying to break free, but the redhead held him pinned. 

“I know I am,” Ian laughed back, “Now just fucking admit it and I won’t make you say uncle,” he quipped. 

The man in the mud thought for a moment, sliding his tongue beneath his lip, trailed his eyes over Ian’s face, then down along his chest and arched an eyebrow when he met his gaze again.

“You’re pretty fuckin' tough, man,” he conceded with a grin, his eyes lingering on Ian’s lips.

Ian looked into his eyes, seeing his gaze, and feeling the haze return around them, pausing as the flutters sang sweetly through his ears. Then Mickey locked eyes with him again and he knew he felt it too. The redhead leaned forward just slightly, looking for some small hint of permission, when the other man parted his lips and lightly tipped his chin up. 

Ian didn’t pause and didn’t slow in accepting the gesture as enough an answer, and leaned the rest of the way down to slot his lips between Mickey’s, instantly embracing their soft, inviting warmth along with the cold, crisp contrast of his lip ring and felt an intense rush of electricity ripple through his body. When his lips parted further, Ian twisted his tongue over Mickey’s, their rings clinking together lightly for just an instant as he did, savoring the sweet, quenching flavor of the other man’s mouth and it was just intoxicating. 

There were sparks and there were flames, eruptions from within that couldn’t be explained and nothing had ever felt to perfect, so right. He let himself wrap an arm around him, bringing his other up to comb his fingers through soft, slick strands of pitch, feeling the other man move to do the same. In that moment they were lost to all else and the world around them disappeared, lost in the limitless of where only they existed and no one else. A place that neither seemed to want to leave, not now, not if they could help it. 

There was something seriously powerful about this guy, something different and amazing, something special. Ian could feel it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here ya go with Chapter 4! :)  
> It's still being edited, so please bear with me there.  
> However, it's done enough to post, I think. Tried not to rush it. :)  
> I hope you enjoy the update!  
> Please let me know what you think! :)

The downpour didn’t last long, but didn’t completely stop just yet either, simmering down to a lighter, speckling drizzle, just enough to keep them feeling a bit damp. There were still peeks of sunlight that would split through the clouds, but most would merely churn, roll and clog each streak back up again. And though it still wasn’t even midday, the morning had already been quite eventful on it’s own for each of them, their moods staying quite light and relaxed.

Together Ian walked with Mickey back into the festival and farther away from the clashes of crowd around the stage, still covered head to toe in thick, brown mud, but neither really seeming to care. Each had a wide, delighted grin stuck to their face and strode shooting comfortable, appealing glances toward one another, clearly feeling even better about each other after their spontaneous embrace. Ian in particular couldn’t seem to shake the thought from his mind and it quite clearly seemed to be lingering on Mickey’s as well, which only made his chest flutter even more each time he noticed a glance from the other man flash his way.

The redhead then began patting his palms over his pockets in search of his cigarettes, finding them squished flat inside his jean pocket and carefully removed the pack which was slicked just as thick as his clothes with a soft, wet mush, causing him to scrunch of his face and peek through a single eye, slowly opening it to inspect them. The other man watched him and chuckled lightly as Ian dropped his shoulders and relaxed his face with a small sigh of relief, then pulled a single cigarette from the messy little box with his lips. He then turned his head, met Mickey’s eyes and tipped his chin. 

“You got a light?” Ian asked with an arch of his brow. 

The other man rolled his tongue beneath his lip, easily returned his chin tip, then glanced down to his pocket, then his hands, seeing the mud on his palms had dried just a bit and rubbed them together to flake some of it away from his skin. Ian chuckled as he watched him do it, earning him another smile along with a rather playful middle finger as Mickey very carefully reached into his pocket with his other hand to retrieve his zippo. He pulled it out, flipped it open with his thumb and gave the reel a flick, holding it out to light the cigarette for him, deep blue eyes softly tracing his face as he did so.

“Ya know you’re fuckin' sharin' that shit, right?” Mickey queried suddenly in a light, friendly tone, closing his zippo and watching as the redhead in front of him took a long, smooth drag and exhaled. Ian smiled at the comment and nodded. 

“I do,” he replied, passing the cigarette right over without question or pause. 

The dark haired man shot him a smirk as he pinched the filter to take it from him and brought it to his lips to pull as well, letting soft, delicate wisps of smoke trail down from his nose as his eyes stayed on him without shame. The redhead simply tried not to blush as his smile pulled harder at the corners of his mouth and kept a comfortable pace with his new companion as they walked back through the festival. The two men split their smoke, passing it back and forth between them, exchanging more lingering gazes and subtle smirks all the while, until they began to near a beer booth that was already buzzing with customers and Mickey gave a pointed tip of his brow. 

“You want a fuckin' beer?” he asked raising an eyebrow, “I’m buyin',” Mickey added with another smirk. Ian raised an eyebrow back at him, dropped his eyes to his watch, using his thumb to rub away a smudge of mud, then chuckled as he raised his face back up. 

“It’s not even noon,” Ian countered, “Isn’t it a little early?” he asked. Mickey creased his brow at him a bit, then began to chuckle as well and gave his head a shake. 

“Never too early for fuckin' beer,” he said with a grin. 

The redhead held his expression, then glanced toward the beer booth, feeling hesitant, but tried not to let it show, pausing to think a moment about his decision. Ian knew that he was able to indulge a little bit while he was away and it wouldn’t affect his medication at all, even knowing he could push it just a bit and still be absolutely fine. But he also knew that to do that safely, he’d have to spread his drinks out, even mild beverages like beer and Ian was also a bit weary with how early it was, how soon after taking his meds, especially having smoked a bowl already, beginning to think it best he wait for bit. 

He looked back at the man beside him who stood in wait, appearing rather patient, but with a slightly creased brow and a lightly amused expression on his face, seeming to wonder what the hold up was. He was a little nervous about responding, hoping the other man didn’t end up giving him shit or not liking him quite as much for not being able to keep up with him. But he also didn’t think the entire diagnosis conversation was something he was anywhere near ready to have either, so he’d just have to risk it and see what happens. Ian took another final drag from their cigarette, then leaned a bit to crush it against his shoe and met his eyes again. He managed to hold his smirk as he tipped his head and arched an eyebrow again. 

“Raincheck?” Ian offered curiously. The dark haired man raised his brow a bit, seemingly a bit surprised, but his smile didn’t really fade, looking him over for a moment, then shrugged a single shoulder. 

“Alright,” Mickey accepted quite easily, much to the redhead’s relief, then gave him a friendly point, “Later then for sure, man,” he said with a bit of insistence and Ian gave a sure nod in return. The dark haired man then dropped his index finger to gesture with his thumb and gave his head another flick, “I’m fuckin' gettin' one now though,” he smirked. The other man pushed out his lip and upturned a palm toward the beer booth. 

“By all means,” Ian replied, “Go right ahead,” he said. 

Mickey merely chewed his lip over his smirk, arched another eyebrow and gave him a small sweeping glance, then moved to get in line for the booth, Ian quietly following to wait beside him. The line moved quite quickly and before long they were wandering away again, with Mickey sipping on a cold, frothy cup of beer and Ian just tried not to watch him as he licked the foam from his lips. 

As they walked, the clouds began to thin and clear just a bit, releasing bright, warm streaks of sunshine from within their prison, causing the mud that still coated their skin and clothes to bake and dry much more quickly. The redhead glanced down at his hands, now rubbing them together, much the same way Mickey had earlier, wanting to get them cleaner, then crinkled his forehead as he turned his face to see the other man tipping his head back to finish off his drink. 

“There like a water tent around here anywhere?” Ian asked. The dark haired man crushed his empty cup inside his fist, turning his face away for just an instant to toss it inside a trash bin as they passed it, then met his gaze and cocked his head. 

“You mean for like fuckin' drinkin' or some shit?” Mickey queried back. 

The redhead creased his brow again, dropping his eyes to the other man’s clothes and limbs, then to his own and made a rather obvious gesture between them with a chuckle. 

“Or some shit,” replied Ian simply with a smile. The other man mirrored his smile, gave a nod and tipped his chin. 

“There is,” Mickey confirmed, then let his eyes fall over him rather appealingly once more and arched a sharp eyebrow as he met his sight again, “But if you’re uh, tryin' to fuckin' wash off or whatever, there’s another fuckin' spot I could show ya?” he offered, the arch in his brow staying high with question. Ian tilted his head with a curious expression. 

“What kinda spot?” the redhead queried, then scrunched his face a bit, “There’s no showers up here, are there?” Ian wondered with a doubtful tone and the other man simply chuckled yet again and gave a headshake. 

“Nah, man. There ain’t no fuckin' showers,” Mickey laughed, letting himself look over all the mud still smeared and plastered across the man in front of him, still seeming to be quite a bit amused by it and met his gaze again, “We’re in fuckin' Minnesota,” he reminded him with a smirk, “The land a ten thousand fuckin' lakes,” said Mickey as they walked a bit more, nearing the end of a vendor aisle beside the trail and tree line, “Especially bein' way the fuck up here,” he continued with a brief sweeping gesture around them with his arms, “Water's way fuckin' cleaner than any shit that comes outta tap,” he explained with a raise of his eyebrows and a confident, honest tone, then met his eyes again and tipped his head, “Especially a fuckin' Southside tap,” Mickey added with a knowing expression. 

Ian pushed out his lip a bit with another slow nod, considering the man’s words. Going for a dip in a lake wasn’t exactly Ian had planned on doing during his time up here, but as he looked over the other man’s expression, the way he peered so deeply into his eyes and subtly bit his lip as he awaited the redhead’s response was hard to turn down. He also really didn’t mind swimming and the sight the other man described really did sound quite nice, peaceful. So, he figured it could end up being quite an enjoyable activity, especially if he was going with Mickey. And he needed to get cleaned up anyway, they both did, making the decision for Ian, rather obvious. 

“Let’s go,” Ian replied, now quite eager for the other man to show him this spot he was referring to.

Mickey’s smirk widened at the response, his tongue moving along his lip, wiggling the shiny, silver ring within it, then tipped his chin again as they turned a bit to follow the tree line toward the trail and walk into the other field, the redhead staying alongside him as they went. 

“Alright,” said Mickey, then thumbed his lip a bit, seeming to hesitate some before he turned his head to meet Ian’s eyes again, “Since I already got your shit in my van,” he began, “Ya wanna just like grab a fuckin' change a clothes and meet me over there?” Mickey queried, another sharp eyebrow arching up just a bit, then lightly shrugged a single shoulder, “Spot ain’t fuckin' far,” he said. The redhead held his smile, ignoring the flutters he felt dancing in his chest and nodded again with agreement just as they entered the mouth of the trail. 

“Sure,” said Ian, “Sounds good to me,” he added, shooting the other man a small smile, who easily returned it, then looked back ahead to follow the flow of other bodies back into the other field. 

As they passed through, the redhead shot the dark haired man another glance, gave a pointed tip of his brow out toward his tent space and Mickey gave a quick chin nod, beginning to walk left toward the large patch of parked vehicles as Ian slowly moved right to walk over toward the sea of tents. 

“Don’t be long, man,” Mickey advised, holding a smirk and arching his eyebrow. Ian tried not to bite his lip or smile any wider under the other man’s gaze before he gave one final nod, then they split from each other to cross the field. 

The redhead tried to be quick in his pace, weaving through other people as politely as he could without being slowed down in his intentions. When he got close, the lingering sprinkles of rain suddenly stopped, the land around him began to brighten under a warm, golden heat, causing him to glance up, seeing the clouds finally beginning to disperse and the sky was turning blue again. The sight made Ian smile even more, and he didn’t think his mood could possibly get any better, despite still being nearly unrecognizably caked in a thick coat of crusting, drying mud, as he continued his stroll toward his current destination. 

Then as he approached his tent, ready to grab some clothes and head back out, he noticed Jesse and Sarah zipping up their own tent, ready to head out as well. Jesse caught a glance of movement as Ian got closer, causing him to glance up, see him, then look him over in observation for just an instant before he suddenly burst out laughing. Sarah creased her brow at her boyfriend as she stood up from the zipper of their tent, then turned to see Ian as well with wide eyes and gasped before covering a giggle that suddenly escaped. The redhead simply smiled, tipped his chin and gave a wave, knowing full well how much of a mess he looked, but just didn’t care. His coworker took a few steps to meet him, still chuckling at his appearance, then met his eyes with a grin. 

“What the fuck happened to you?” asked Jesse, still laughing and looking him over.

Ian dropped his eyes down to his clothes briefly once more, holding his smile, then rubbed his palms together and shook out his hair, sending a small scatter of little brown mud flakes flying in all directions, earning him a bit more laughter from his traveling companions. He then looked between them and gave a shrug, with a small gesture of his elbow toward the trail and tree line. 

“I kinda got into a mud fight,” Ian replied, then grinned a bit wider, fondly recalling his little wrestling match with Mickey along with the kiss they’d shared at the end of it when he’d successfully pinned him and creased his brow with a confident expression, “Pretty sure I won though,” he said. The other man pushed out his lip and gave a nod as the woman beside him continued to giggle, when Ian tilted his head with question. 

“You guys just now going to walk around?” he queried and Jesse nodded again with a glance above his head. 

“We were waiting for the fucking rain to stop,” he explained, then looked back at his friends filthy clothes and gestured toward him with his chin, chuckling again, “Didn’t wanna end up lookin' like you,” said Jesse. Ian rolled his eyes a bit and flipped the other man off with no heat in his stance, then made a brief glance toward his little orange tent a few paces away. 

“I’m about to go get cleaned up actually,” Ian informed them, “Just stopping through to grab some clothes,” he said, then arched an eyebrow at them, “Still a lot of fucking mud out there though,” Ian added, giving the other man’s clean clothes a quick sweeping glance, “So you better be careful you don’t slip and land on your ass,” he warned with a bit of a cocky tone, “Or you will end up looking like me,” Ian smirked. The other man returned his smirk, then reached to put his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders to walk out into the field, tipping his chin as they went.

“At least I won’t be pickin' any mud fights,” Jesse shot back, which Ian simply returned with another friendly middle finger before turning back toward his little orange tent and making steps over to it. 

When he unzipped it, he stayed fairly quick and careful in his movements of gathering a change of clothes, not wanting to dirty up his sleeping space with any dirt smears or mud flecks. He then wrapped them up into a little bundle, backed out of his tent and zipped it back closed, eager to get back over to Mickey and not keep him waiting. 

He strode to the back corner of the tree line where he knew the dark haired man was parked, passing other people also posted at their vehicles, as if they’d been waiting for the rain to stop as well and let his eyes begin to search for a blue van with big, white wings painted on it’s sides. Ian quickly spotted it, then turned to round another car and approach the back doors, which were hung wide open. He tried to ignore the speckling rush of flutters that began to fill his chest again the closer he got, still anxious, yet almost nervous about spending even more time with Mickey, about getting closer to him. But his excitement for it outweighed all else, so he managed to take a breath and calm a bit, just before he approached the back of the van and peeked his head inside. 

There he found Mickey, seated on his knees with Ian’s backpack unzipped in his lap, the rest of him turned toward the back corner, next to the little net he had filled with clothes, grabbing a few articles, then twisted back around to stuff them away inside it. The redhead tilted his head a bit, a small smile returning to his face, then politely cleared his throat to get the other man’s attention. Mickey’s face snapped up with a deeply creased forehead and a hard raised brow, but his expression quickly smoothed and faded into a smile the instant he saw it was Ian. 

“Aye,” Mickey greeted, letting his eyes trace over him with quite a bit of appeal in their gaze, then chewed his lip a bit before dropping them to his lap and giving a point, “You care if we just put our shit in your fuckin' bag?” he asked, then gestured to his own with his thumb, that still sat within the other corner, “Mine still has all my fuckin' equipment and shit in it,” he said. The other man met his eyes and smoothly shook his head. 

“It’s cool with me,” said Ian with a shrug, then leaned in some to hand his own clothing over, which Mickey took and tucked away as well before pulling the zipper closed and scooting toward the edge of the space to step out and rise from the vehicle. 

“Let’s get fuckin' goin' then, man,” advised Mickey as he swung the other man’s pack onto his shoulders to rest along his back, then gave one of his arms a rough rub with his palm, “This shit's startin' to fuckin' itch,” he said, which Ian simply chuckled at and took a step back as Mickey closed up his van, locked it and hid the key away. The redhead held his smirk and cocked his head as the other man stepped back over to his side. 

“You kinda brought it on yourself,” Ian reminded him with a rather sly grin pulling at his mouth. The dark haired man pressed his lips together with a scoff, began to wave him off, then arched his eyebrow and pointed at him. 

“Your ass just got fuckin' lucky,” Mickey countered firmly, “That’s all that fuckin' was,” he said rolling his tongue beneath his lip as his eyes scanned back over the redhead in front of him, seeing him fight down another laugh at the remark, then cocked his head, “You don’t look too much fuckin' better than I do anyway, man,” he observed, “So quit talkin' shit,” Mickey directed, his voice sure, but still friendly and Ian just smiled. The other man kept his gaze on him for a just a moment, then took a step back and flicked his head toward the woods behind him.

“Now let’s go, man,” Mickey offered once more with a bit of insistence, “Wanna fuckin’ get over there before too many other motherfuckers get a chance to,” he said. Ian gave a quick nod of agreement, then followed as the other man lead him through a tall patch of grass and into the trees. 

They walked for a little bit, weaving through trunks and stepping over roots, passing through more grass that had grown up to their chests before Mickey lead Ian to a small dirt trail that twisted the rest of their way through the woods. Ian could still feel the subtle bump of base in the ground, radiating out from one of the stages far away behind them, but kept moving, more focused on his steps and trying not to stare at the man in front of him too much, who kept glancing back as well, seeming to try and do the same. The redhead felt himself blush with each gaze, and kept his eyes down so he didn’t trip over a protruding rock or root. 

After a short hike through the forest, Ian began to hear the gentle streaming sound of flowing water from somewhere close by and peered further ahead to see the faintest shimmer of blue through the other end of the trees. When they got closer, he also saw a large rock formation that seemed to wrap around the edge of the water and stood high, covered in more greenery and even trees of it’s own. Both men finally reached the other side, emerging from the shade, back out into the sun to see a clear, flowing river than ran off a small waterfall and into a big, round lake. 

Ian paused and stared, just needing to take it all in for a moment, letting himself gaze across the water and took another deep breath, wanting to savor the sight. The water was as blue as the sky, and so clear, he could see the bright colors of the stones that nestled along the riverbed and were scattered across the bottom of the lake. The large formation of rock beside them was a reddish color, and was thoroughly chipped, chiseled and molded from time. The trees and bushes that grew from the stone were flush and green, wisping and dancing wildly with every gust of wind that passed through them. The hills and forest beyond the water looked endless, rocking, shifting waves of earth simply going on forever. It was all so beautiful, just absolutely beautiful and Ian could hardly blink, having never seen such a thing before in his life, nothing that even came close. The dark haired man at his side, turned to see his face, reading his expression and didn’t seem to want to rush him in the slightest, understanding his reaction completely. He gazed back out toward the water as well, and farther across to the other side, along more trees, then peered back up at Ian. 

“You been outta the fuckin' city much?” Mickey queried. Ian shook his head, but didn’t quite look away from the scenery just yet. 

“No,” he replied, “Never, really,” Ian admitted, and the dark haired man nodded in understanding. 

“Pretty fuckin' different huh?” asked Mickey, causing the other man to silently nod as well and the dark haired man titled his head, “I thought so too,” he added, then shot him a smirk, “Hell of a lot fuckin' nicer out here than the fuckin' cities though, man,” Mickey said confidently, then arched his brow, “Don’t ya think?” The redhead turned his face and looked into his eyes, seeing the same softness within the blues as he had before when he’d kissed the man and couldn’t help but smile at the gaze. 

“Definitely,” Ian agreed. The other man smiled lightly as well, chewing his lip a bit, then flicked his head toward the rock nearby. 

“Come on, man,” he said. 

Ian followed once more as Mickey led him over to a little nook beneath a ledge in the rock, that was tucked away behind a large, broad tree trunk, then swung the redhead’s backpack off from his shoulders. Mickey turned his head back toward Ian, straightening up a bit, then tipped his chin toward him as he began to toe off his shoes and pull off his socks. 

“So, uh, might be a stupid fuckin' question now,” said Mickey, then met his eyes, “But, you can fuckin' swim, right?” he asked. Ian gave a scoff as he paused beside him and followed in his movements of removing his own socks and shoes. 

“Of course I can fucking swim,” he chuckled with a very sure nod. 

The dark haired man chuckled as well, bending to stuff his socks inside his shoes, then hid them away inside the little stone nook. He reached to do the same with Ian’s shoes as the redhead handed them over and he arched another eyebrow. 

“Scared a heights?” Mickey queried further. The other man creased his brow a bit at the question, but answered anyway. 

“Fuck no,” Ian replied in the very same tone, then paused and tilted his head, “Would it make a difference if I was?” he asked back curiously. The other man pushed out his lip and shrugged. 

“Maybe a little fuckin' bit,” said Mickey, but the other man remained perplexed and still wasn’t sure what he meant, raising another eyebrow. 

“Why?” asked Ian and the dark haired man simply smirked. 

“You’ll see,” he said. 

The redhead was still curious, but he didn’t push it, more than willing to be patient and wait. Then he suddenly saw Mickey grasp the bottom of his shirt and pulled it over his head in a single swift motion, revealing a broad, pale chest and a hard pack of abs atop the sharp cut of his hips and Ian just tried not to stare. Most of his skin was still smeared with mud, but he could make out another tattoo, a tribal looking design of some kind, below his bellybutton, just above his belt line in the middle of his pelvis. Ian licked his lips without realizing as his eyes followed the thin strip of dark hair that ran down from the man’s navel, over his tattoo and disappeared inside his pants. He also hadn’t realized how visibly he paused to ogle the other man, until another deep, handsome chuckle finally pulled his attention away just a bit and he blinked a few times. 

“Aye,” Mickey smirked, watching as the other man met his eyes, his face beginning to flush red with embarrassment, then pointed up at his own, “I got fuckin' eyes too, ya know,” he cracked lightly. The redhead swallowed and reached to rub the back of his neck, now shifting his feet around quite awkwardly in the dirt. 

“Sorry,” Ian offered a bit more quietly, but the other man honestly didn’t seem to really mind his gaze, simply widening his smirk and laughing a bit more, then gestured back to Ian with his chin. 

“Whatcha fuckin' waitin' for, man?” Mickey queried, as his eyes looked over the redhead’s clothes, then arched a single eyebrow, “You fuckin' shy or some shit?” he asked, still quite casually stripping down in front of him, reaching to unclasp his belt, not seeming shy himself in the slightest. Ian held his chin high, quickly regained his composure, then returned his expression with a headshake. 

“Not at all,” answered Ian, earning him a rather suggestive brow arch and another subtle bite of the other man’s lip, appearing quite pleased at the response, then dropped his hands and eyes to remove his shirt as well. But the second he did, his attention was suddenly caught and pulled away again. 

“Holy fuck, man,” blurted Mickey, his eyes staring down at Ian’s chest with a very appealing gaze, then met his eyes, thumbed his lip and dropped his sight again, pointing with his brow, “Were ya plannin' on keepin' those a fuckin' secret?” he asked. 

The redhead crinkled his forehead and cocked his head, not really understanding again, before glancing down to his chest, seeing his nipples, each of which held a shiny, silver barbell, piercings he’d had since his early days of working at the club, then parted his lips in realization and looked back up with a laugh and shrug. 

“Didn’t think to mention it,” Ian replied honestly and the other man just tilted his head.

“I do tats and piercings for a fuckin' livin' and you didn’t fuckin' think I’d find that shit the least bit interesting?” Mickey wondered aloud, raising both eyebrows and sucking in his lower lip with another smirk. Ian thought for just a moment, then upturned a single palm and shot the man a rather handsome smirk of his own. 

“You know now,” he stated simply, causing the other man to tip his head to the other side, offer a single nod, then scanned over Ian’s body once more with a very openly admiring gaze. 

“I do,” Mickey agreed. 

The redhead felt another blush begin to rouge his cheeks, but tried to ignore it as the other man raised an empty palm for Ian to toss his shirt over, which he did, before the man tucked both his and Ian’s away inside the nook as well. Mickey began fumble with the zipper of his pants, and the other averted his eyes this time to focus on his own and give the other man a bit of privacy. He pulled off his jeans, stepped out from them, then picked them up from the ground, now down to only a pair of maroon boxer briefs and glanced back up. The other man wore boxer briefs as well, though his were black instead and Ian watched as he bent just a bit to add his pants to rest of their things, trying not to let his eyes linger too long as he did. The dark haired man looked back at Ian, gave his body another rather approving glance, then reached out to take his jeans as well, who easily handed them over. 

Ian saw Mickey push everything down into the cramped little space inside the rock, place the redhead’s pack on top of their clothes within it, then began pulling on the surrounding shrubs to cover it all up like nothing was there at all. When he stood back up and turned again, Ian raised another eyebrow. 

“Why do we have to hide everything?” he queried, causing the other man to crease his brow a bit and tilt his head. 

“Some people are fuckin' assholes, man,” replied Mickey, “I’ve had my shit stolen before,” he elaborated, then flicked his head back toward their concealed belongings, “Ain’t happenin' again if I can fuckin' help it,” he said. 

Ian nodded, completely understanding and grateful that Mickey was smart enough to think ahead, then turned his face away to peer down the river toward the rush of it’s fall and tilted his head toward his companion.

“So, where are we jumping in?” Ian asked. The other man chuckled again, causing him to glance back at his face with a bit of confusion, then saw him take a step back and tip his brow. 

“Up here,” said Mickey, then turned away, took a few more steps and grabbed a hold of the mass of rock with both hands, placed his foot atop a ledge and pulled himself up. 

The redhead walked over as well, watching as the man grabbed onto another stone, put his other foot on another ledge to make another step and go a little higher, then paused and glanced back down. The dark haired man saw his expression, then shot him a small reassuring smile and flicked his head upward. 

“Come on, man,” he urged again lightly, then waited just a moment until Ian closed the space, clearly confused but still curious and began to climb as well. 

As they went higher, Ian kept resisting the urge to glance up too much at Mickey, not wanting to distract himself each time he caught a glimpse of the man’s arm muscles flexing as his hand grasped onto a new stone, or how smooth the pale flesh of his thighs appeared to the touch, even close enough to reach for, only a few feet above his head. But each and every time, he turned his eyes down, fighting the urge and just continued their ascent. 

There was also something else that’d caught his eye, almost demanding his attention, which was the artwork he noticed on Mickey’s back, now able to see much more clearly without any shirt to cover it, though it was smeared and obstructed quite a bit with drying streaks of mud just like the rest of his body. It was large, covering nearly his entire back and appeared to be perhaps a Reaper of some kind, with a long dark hood, a sharp, evil expression and a scythe clutched in a single bony hand. There were wisps around the piece that appeared to be smoke and another hand outstretched as if it was taking offer or payment and Ian swallowed as he looked it over, feeling a grim sense of pain and emotion woven into it’s ink. The image had a story behind it, that’s for sure. 

Then Ian began hearing the voices of others from somewhere above and lifted his face back up to see Mickey finally reach an edge of what looked to be the top, then hoisted himself up over the final ledge, turning his body around and sat on it. He saw Ian just a short distance below, nearly to the top as well and grinned. 

“Almost fuckin' there, man,” Mickey informed him, his voice laced with an impressed praise, then leaned forward and offered his hand to help Ian over the final ledge as well. 

The redhead smiled, then reached up to take a firm hold of the other man’s palm, pulling himself up and curling a knee over the rock to sit beside him. Both men exchanged satisfied smiles, the climb having been just a bit of work, but not too bad and Ian exhaled, tipping his head back some to relax, when he heard another voice and turned his face to see that they weren’t alone up here. 

Where they were now appeared to be the top of a cliff, but quite a green one, just like the rest of the rock with trees and shrubbery scattered and speckled around, sharing the exposed rock that laid between each patch of grass. There was group of just a handful of people, seated in the shade, wet from the water below, chatting amongst each other and drinking beer, not paying the two men in their underwear any mind at all, many being quite underdressed themselves anyway. On the other side of the space, there was a large rock that was slanted like a small ramp and stuck out on the cliff side with a large tree behind it bearing a long, round branch that reached out even further with a thick, sturdy rope tied tight around it’s end. He could still hear the water moving on the other side of the rock and faintest sound of more voices somewhere down below, causing him to shoot Mickey a curious glance, who simply smirked once more then began to rise. 

“Check it out,” said Mickey, and Ian rose as well, both men taking tentative steps toward the edge. 

The waterfall to their left wasn’t huge, but it was a bit of a drop, even looking down on it from above. The water below that lead into the lake was even further down, more than fifty feet, but looked quite deep, with a small gathering of people already mingling and swimming about a little farther off, a few pairs here and there drifting away on their own. There was a small floating dock anchored near the middle, empty and alone, and a small speckle of shallow, bushy islands that poked up from the water in a scatter. The blue of it shimmered more brightly as the sun shone down, sparkling across the mild, lazy waves that rippled about. It was stunning. 

Ian dropped his sight directly down and leaned forward just a bit to peer down the side of the cliff, watching as a strong flow of water rushed out from the bottom of the fall, into the rest of it’s body and took a breath as he observed just exactly how far up they were. He hadn’t lied when he said that he wasn’t afraid of heights, but he would be if claimed he wasn’t at least a little bit intimidated by it. The redhead put a palm on the trunk of the tree beside him that stretched out over the edge and tried not to wobble when a rough gust of wind suddenly whipped along past them. Ian exhaled and looked to the man beside him with a small smile, who instantly returned it, then took a small step to gaze down as well. 

“Not too fuckin' bad, right?” Mickey queried, then flashed him another glance, reading over his face. The redhead looked away again and kept his nerves concealed as his eyes traveled back along the water. 

“No, not really,” Ian replied, then noticed several feet of large, jagged boulders wrapped around the base of the cliff, the rush of water crashing against them and spilling over, before he looked back at Mickey, “Some big ass rocks down there though,” he mentioned with a tip of his head, but the other man just shrugged a bit. 

“Just gotta make sure ya get a good fuckin' jump,” said Mickey, then stepped around him toward the tree and gestured to the rope, “The fuckin' rope gives ya some more distance and a little more fuckin' height,” he began, upturning a palm, “That’s what I do,” Mickey added, then looked past him with a pointed brow, “Or you can just jump the fuckin' ledge,” he said, causing the redhead to turn and look over his shoulder. 

Two young women who had been with the small group beneath another tree had stood up with big bright smiles and began walking over the side Ian and Mickey had emerged from, then turned toward the edge of the cliff that faced the water. They held hands and exchanged glances, just before taking off in a full barefooted sprint toward the edge and jumped off with a leap, parting hands and spreading their arms out at their sides. Both men looked back down the cliff to watch their rapid descent through the air, as they went down face first about halfway before turning their bodies, pointing their feet and crossing their arms over their chests to land with a big, loud splash. Then only a few seconds passed before both women’s faces immerged from the water with high, joyful shouts of laughter and the rush of the fall pushed them out further into the lake. Ian chuckled, feeling slightly more at ease about jumping, and Mickey tipped his chin down toward the women in the water. 

“See?” he said, then looked back at Ian and cocked his head, “Mostly just gotta make sure ya fuckin' land right,” smirked Mickey, “Jumpin's the fuckin' easy part, man,” he stated with his mouth pulling into a grin.

The redhead gave a slow nod, his eyes traveling back down the wall of rock once more, before he turned his face back up to see Mickey reaching to grasp a hold of the rope and take a step into the base of the little ramp like stone that stuck out from the side. He met Ian’s eyes, then held it out in offering as he arched an eyebrow. 

“You wanna fuckin' go first?” asked Mickey, “Use the rope?” he queried, then slid his tongue along his cheek with a smile, keeping the arch in his brow. Ian returned his expression, looked to the rope, then back at Mickey, arching an eyebrow of his own. 

“Why don’t you show me how it’s done?” the redhead asked back, causing the other man to chew his lip a bit as his eyes traced back over his face, still smiling as he did. Then his eyes drifted a bit, giving the other man another sweeping downward glace, his gaze still drenched heavily in appeal, before he met his gaze again, tongued his lip ring and tipped his chin in gesture.

“Watch and learn, man,” Mickey advised in a very smooth tone, causing the other man to smile wider, then take a step back to observe him. 

He saw the dark haired man take another step back himself, gathering a firm, tight grasp on the rope, leaving himself a bit of slack at his feet, then got into a readied stance at the base of the ramp stone. Mickey flashed Ian a quick final glance and a sharp eyebrow, before turning his face away to run full speed off the edge of cliff and into the air. He held on until the rope swung him all the way out over the water, then released his grip, launching him up even further. Mickey pulled his head back and bent his knees, spinning his body into a slow, airy backflip, just before gravity began to pull him down. He managed another flip, his arms out at his sides the entire time, until he neared the water, pulling them in to cross over his chest and crossed his ankles with a splash. 

Ian’s mouth was held slightly agape as he blinked a few times, just staring down at the swirl of ripples and bubbles where the other man had disappeared into the water. 'Holy shit,' Ian thought, finding what he’d just witnessed to be incredibly impressive and rather unexpected. He then blinked a few more times with a smile when he saw Mickey come shooting back up from the rush and shook his hair out, flinging little droplets in all directions with a large smile splitting across his face as well. He tipped his head up and peered straight back up at Ian as the water washed him out into the lake, watching and waiting for the other man to follow him down. 

With a heavy rise and fall of his chest, Ian took another deep breath, then looked over toward the rope, seeing it still swinging back and forth over the edge of the cliff and walked over to grab a hold of the end, ready to give it a try. He was still a bit nervous, but not enough to stop him, really wanting to impress the other man, like Mickey had just impressed him, more determined than anything else. The redhead also thought he might even be able to manage a flip himself, having successfully done them before on trampolines and diving boards, wondering if perhaps the rope could propel him in a similar way. He was pretty confident that he could and decided to go for it, as he strengthened his grip on the rope and stretched back his shoulders. Ian then planted his feet, took another final breath and peered out into the open air in front of him. 'Here goes nothing.'

It felt like hardly an instant between when he feet began running and when his toes leapt from the edge, plunging his body into the wide, open endlessness of the sky. He tightened his grip as the rope swung him far out and away from the rock, then released it, just like the other man had, sending him up a bit higher into the air. Ian tilted his head back, pulling him around into a flip just like he’d wanted. And when his body spun, the world spun too, feeling the wind swirling through his hair and wrapping around his limbs, clearing all else from his mind and it felt simply amazing, almost lost in it for a moment.

Then when he’d made a full rotation, his sight came into focus, knowing he didn’t want to risk another and straightened out, bringing his feet together, pointing his body and wrapping his arms over his chest. Ian held his breath and turned his face up, just before he plunged through the surface of the water and he felt every muscle in his body instantly tense from the shock. 

It was cold, so fucking cold, but only as first, quickly realizing the lake was actually quite a bit warmer than he expected, though it was still enough that it took a moment for his flesh to get used to it. He cracked his eyes just a bit, opening them to a clearing curtain of bubbles swarming around his body, then looked up toward the light and began to swim, until he burst back through into the air to suck a deep, refreshing breath into his lungs. 

Ian exhaled with a smile and couldn’t help but laugh, feeling immensely proud of himself for not only being able to make the jump, but complete the flip as well, feeling his chest swell with accomplishment as he peered back up toward the rope still swinging from it’s tree branch. He then let the flow from the water fall push him away from the cliff, running a palm down his face and combing his fingers through his hair to slick it away from his eyes. The redhead turned within the current as it began to slow, his sight now searching for the man who’d jumped first before finally landing on him, seeing another wide, satisfied smile on his face, then swam to close their distance. They both seemed to just gaze for half a second before Mickey tipped his head and titled it. 

“That was pretty fuckin' cool, man,” he complimented with a very genuine sounding tone of approval, then arched his brow, “Wasn’t sure if you’d be tryin' any fuckin' flips off a there though,” Mickey added honestly, “Bein' so fuckin' tall and all,” he teased with a smirk. Ian chuckled, then cocked his head and smirked right back. 

“Well, I wasn’t entirely sure you’d be able to make the jump,” Ian retorted, lying a bit, but not backing down to a little mild shit talking, then gestured to the man in front of him with his chin, “You know, bein' kinda fucking short and all,” he cracked. Mickey laughed, then scoffed through his nose, not looking at all offended. 

“Shut the fuck up,” he said. 

Ian laughed as well, and both men stayed together talking and smiling as they swam around in the cool, clear water of the lake, washing away all the mud that painted their skin, feeling much fresher and cleaner almost instantly. They remained very comfortable in each other’s presence as they drifted about for nearly a few hours, not really paying too much mind to anyone else, save for the occasional cliff jumper that’d appear, which they’d pause to watch, half merely for amusement, the other to make sure the person hit the water and not the rocks. Thankfully, each and every person who jumped had made it, and they didn’t have to witness some terrible accident, much to Ian’s relief especially. 

Then the conversation turned a little more personal, though it was still fairly casual, but they’d gotten closer while they spoke, their body language a bit flirtier, more suggestive, nearly chest to chest, lightly swimming around in their own little bubble. Their lips smiled and chewed, their eyes lingered with a heavy gaze between them and Ian just found himself wanting the other man more and more, wondering if the craving was mutual. His eyes fell over him, landing on his hands as they swished and swirled within the water at his sides, seeing the tattoos on his fingers, then raised an eyebrow, not sure if he’d had the opportunity to look at them properly yet. 

“What do your knuckles say?” Ian asked suddenly. 

The other man had a grin on his face, but rolled his eyes a bit, almost looking a little embarrassed to show him, then lifted his hands from the water to place together for the redhead to read. Ian pulled his face back some to look them over, 'FUCK U-UP' he creased his brow, then tilted his head with a chuckle. 

“That’s kinda harsh,” he said, earning him a laugh as the other man dropped his hands to swirl around him again. 

“Well, I'm kinda fuckin' harsh, man,” Mickey informed him simply. Ian’s eyes squinted with skepticism and he pursed his lips. 

“Ah, I bet you wouldn’t hurt a fly,” he teased in rather playful tone, staying close inside the other man’s space, who still didn’t mind a bit, “You might look like a hardass on the outisde,” said Ian, lightly raising his eyebrows, “But inside you’re all sweet and soft,” he smirked, watching as the other man raised his with surprise at Ian’s boldness, sucking in his lower lip, “I can tell,” Ian said. The other man’s tongue rolled over beneath his lip like he was fighting his smile from widening and tipped his head to the side. 

“I'll punch your ass right now,” Mickey threatened with absolutely no heat in his voice and the other man just smiled and gave his head a shake. 

“No, you won’t,” Ian countered with confidence, “I think you like me too much to do that,” he admitted, with much more courage than he thought he had. 

The other man still tried to fight down a grin, much too stubborn to admit anything, then let his eyes fall over his chest and whatever more of his body he could see through the crystal clear liquid around them, then bit his lip and met his gaze with a slightly suggestive arch of his brow. 

“Keep pushin' your fuckin' luck then, man,” Mickey replied in a bit of a lower voice, this threat clearly being just as empty as the first, refusing to break his silence on the matter just yet.

Ian didn’t push it, but he could feel the vibe the other man was giving him, the tension behind his gaze and he just craved him even more. He wanted to make a move, wanted to get closer, but he didn’t want to overdo it and the other man reject his advance. But with the way things were going, he was definitely feeling confident enough to try, just a bit. The redhead moved a bit closer, but still not yet touching him and arched another eyebrow, not skipping a single beat. 

“You're calling me lucky again?” Ian queried with a smirk, “Funny, I’ve been thinking the same thing since yesterday,” he confessed, letting his gaze very openly trace over the other man as he spoke, “Wonder why that is,” he said then bit his lip just slightly. 

The dark haired man couldn’t fight a smirk from pulling at his mouth and he hesitated for a moment in thought, then licked his lips before he moved just a bit closer as well, arching another eyebrow and speaking low again. 

“Ya think you’re fuckin' slick, huh?” Mickey asked, blue eyes flickering between green, “Do I look like the kinda guy who gives a shit about some fuckin' sweet talkin' bullshit?” he queried bluntly, his expression a bit amused and his voice still heatless. The redhead hadn’t quite expected that, but it didn’t faze him in the slightest, moving even closer and holding his expression. 

“Oh, should I just be more direct?” Ian asked back smoothly, “I can do that,” he assured, watching the other man’s eyes hood just a bit the closer he got, then dropped his sight, landing on Mickey’s lips, just as he bit down on his piercing. 

“Ever since yesterday, I’ve wondered what you taste like,” he told him, his voice falling lower, causing the other man to bite his lip harder, then suck it back into his mouth, his gaze falling a bit heavier at the admission. Ian took a chance and reached a hand out to very slowly and cautiously wrap around Mickey’s waist, who let him, still listening. 

“Then today, I was lucky enough to find out,” the redhead continued, his face beginning to hover quite closely to Mickey’s, “And now I just can’t stop thinking about it,” said Ian, being rather honest, enjoying the swarm of flutters he felt radiating between them, seeing that the other man seemed to feel them too and took another chance to be much more forward than he normally would be, “I wanna taste you again,” he said, his breath brushing against the other man’s lips who very lightly exhaled a rather shaky breath, seemingly trying to hide it and spoke very lowly as well. 

“Don’t start some shit you can’t fuckin' finish, man,” Mickey warned slowly, his eyes glossy and lustful, looking from Ian’s eyes to his lips and back up again. But his response only fueled Ian’s intentions that much more. 

“Start what?” he queried innocently, then leaned in a bit more, daring to tempt the man, letting his lips part, causing Mickey to do the same before Ian slowly swiped his tongue out, clinking his piercing over the other man’s lip ring with a tease, “And who finishes first?” Ian asked further in a very seductive tone. 

Mickey held his gaze, sucking his lip back into his mouth and looked over his face in a way that seemed it was really hard for him to resist, then glanced past him toward anyone else who happened to be just a bit to close to their vicinity, and met his eyes again. 

“You want some?” Mickey asked in the same very suggestive tone, then began to swim backward, farther out into the lake and away from others, “Come fuckin' get it then,” he invited. Ian’s eyes widened with surprise as a smile split across his face and instantly he began swimming after the other man, following him through the water for a bit more privacy.

Mickey swam out to the lone floating dock near the middle of the lake and far away from anyone else, then turned around in wait for the redhead who quickly caught up to him and slowed as he approached. Ian closed the space as they shared a quiet gaze and the instant they were close enough, hands began moving softly through the water to glide smoothly along skin, both still gently kicking their feet to stay afloat. And this time it was Mickey who leaned in first. 

He parted his lips and wrapped them around Ian’s, his tongue twisting softly along them, then opened his mouth wider and pushed it inside. Ian hummed when he did, sliding his own tongue back across Mickey’s, his throat nearly vibrating beneath their kiss. Fuck, his lips were soft and he tasted even better than before, something Ian just couldn’t believe and never thought he could have enough of. He moved closer, reaching past Mickey’s head to grasp the edge of the dock, using it as leverage to press his body further into the other man’s heat beneath the water. 

The dark haired man wrapped one leg around the redhead’s, then slid a single hand up his back to grasp his shoulder as both of their breaths quickly grew heavier, wetter and much more intense. Each time their piercings would cling or one man’s lips would grasp the other’s in just the right way, they’d both seem to kiss a bit a harder, both full of buzzing, pulsing nerves. Then Mickey suddenly dropped his face a bit, moving off to the side to run the tip of his tongue along Ian’s ear and bit down. The redhead hissed from the sharpness of the other man’s teeth, then swallowed a pleasurable groan, dipping his own face to kiss and suck along Mickey’s neck, earning him a small, breathy moan in response, before he sunk his teeth into Ian’s shoulder. 

“Fuck,” Ian breathed with another hiss, feeling the tips of his submerged fingers tremble along the other man’s skin, pulling him forever closer, wanting to feel more of him. The dark haired man covered his bite with a kiss, then tipped his head back up to whisper in his ear. 

“I warned ya, man,” Mickey reminded, his voice deep but still breathy as well, “Ya start some shit, ya get some shit,” he said, then slid his free hand along Ian’s chest, his thumb brushing lightly over a single pierced nipple, then down toward his hips to pause on one with a grasp, “And I ain’t nearly close to fuckin' done yet,” he assured, then leaned back in to kiss along the other man’s jaw and found his mouth again, his tongue twisting and dancing back over Ian’s with urgency and need.

Ian couldn’t stop himself from moaning at the words, his body flushed and tingling with a wave of anticipation, letting the sound become swallowed up beneath their kiss. He pressed his hips into Mickey’s, knowing how hard he was and only let another moan slip the instant he noticed how hard the other man was as well, greatly enjoying the friction between their clothed cocks within the water. His hand traveled down to Mickey’s hip, much like the other man had a grasp on his and rocked his hips again, then moved his hand further down to wrap around the back of Mickey’s thigh, pausing to see how he’d react to the contact. 

But the other man didn’t stop or pause in the slightest, their kisses still soft, but passionate, deep and unreserved, even making the first move again as he dropped his hand to Ian’s hard-on and began to give him a firm, intent rub. Ian exhaled at the touch, swallowing another moan and bit his lip, just as Mickey leaned his head back just a bit, knitting his eyebrows together with lust. 

“Jesus,” Mickey breathed, giving him another rub followed by a slower stroke, clearly referring to the rather large sized cock Ian had between his legs, appearing to have an expression that looked surprised, yet quite pleased and impressed, then leaned back in to kiss him again, pausing not a second a longer and seeming even more eager to devour him as quickly as he could. 

Ian’s breath grew even deeper, his limbs nearly trembling the quicker and more firmly Mickey’s grip grew, moaning softly into his mouth as he stroked and jerked him off through his boxers. The dark haired man seemed to enjoy his reaction, and tipped his face back down to suck and bite at Ian’s shoulder hoping to coax more noise out of him. The redhead creased his brow, closed his eyes and bit his lip, turning his face down toward the other man’s shoulder as well, muffling another moan beneath a kiss. 

Then Ian’s hand began to travel again, moving up to rub of the firm muscle of Mickey’s ass and squeezed, earning him a rather lustful moan as well, feeling the other man shift just a bit to wrap his other leg around Ian’s like he had with the first, now straddling his thighs. He held his grip on the dock with the other, then gave the firm, round muscle another squeeze. Mickey let out a soft groan, then bit down into Ian’s flesh and sucked again, his fist quickening around the redhead’s cock, before his fingers suddenly moved up to the strap of Ian’s boxer briefs and pulled it down to grasp him better. The redhead swallowed a gasp, not expecting the sudden change in contact and let another moan slip from the sensation of the other man’s grip now directly on his skin, wrapped around his cock and pumping him in a smooth, quick rhythm.

Ian wanted to stroke Mickey too, but had to keep one hand on the dock to support them in the water, and the other man seemed to have quite the reaction to his current gesture anyway, the action getting quite the rise out of him. So, he simply squeezed his ass again with wide, firm palm, then gave it a rub, enjoying the way the muscle felt within his grip, along with the other breathy moan that rolled up Mickey’s throat because of it. Mickey leaned to kiss him again and Ian welcomed it, as his hips began to rock into the other man’s fist, causing the dark haired man to moan lightly at the action, continuing to pull and tug on his cock, very much enjoying the way the redhead moved. The dark haired man kissed along Ian’s neck some more, then bit down on his collarbone and quickened his hand again just as heard the redhead’s breath begin to hitch. 

He could feel it coming, rising up from within much quicker than he expected and radiated warmly through his pelvis, his hand squeezing Mickey’s ass once more as he felt his balls pull tight and his mind began to fog. Ian found Mickey’s lips again, just before teetering over the edge, letting a deep, breathy moan pass through his lips and spill down the other man’s throat and the dark haired man simply smirked into their kiss with a deviously satisfied expression. The redhead let a pant and another moan escape his lips as his orgasm took him, flashing behind his eyes, shivering through his limbs, then swirled down into his balls before bursting from the tip of his cock with hot, white spurts mixing with the chilly water between them.

As Ian took a shaky breath, their kisses began to slow, the rush of his euphoria began to fade and Mickey very gently released his hold on him, then tucked him back away. Their eyes met and even though Ian had just finished, he still wanted to the other man, needed him, to touch him and feel him, to make him feel just as good as he’d made Ian feel, causing him to move his hand around and grasp the man’s still very hard cock through his boxers, but the other man suddenly stopped him with a hand over his own. 

“Aye,” said Mickey, and Ian met his eyes, “Raincheck,” he stated in a cocky tone, then smirked, “You can fuckin' get me back later, huh?” Mickey offered, then arched an eyebrow, his gaze still very admiring, “That shit was just about you,” he said.

The redhead bit his lip with a small smile, pausing in thought for a second, then conceded, knowing full well he had intent on repaying him and soon if at all possible. Ian leaned back a bit, removed his hand and held his expression. 

“Deal,” said Ian, looking him over slyly as the other man smiled back at him with a small chuckle and a shrug. 

“Aye,” Mickey offered once more, “Maybe you are just fuckin' lucky, man,” he grinned playfully, blue eyes twinkling between grin, “I’m pretty sure I fuckin' am,” Mickey added lowly, the same soft gaze tracing over the other man’s face. 

Ian’s breath slowed all over again hearing the other man’s words and seeing his expression, how honest and genuine he appeared, like he really, truly meant what he was saying and felt himself smile even more, flattered and stunned. He was feeling pretty lucky too right about now, still lingering in his disbelief at how much he really truly liked this man, how much he enjoyed him, just wanting to see him more and more. There was nothing about the man he didn’t like and was ready to seek out whatever it was that made Ian feel so drawn into him, having never felt anything like it before. The dark haired man then chewed his lip just a bit, held his smile and tilted his head. 

“You about ready for that fuckin' beer now?” asked Mickey, slowly sliding his legs down off the other man’s thighs and Ian finally released his hand from the edge of the dock. 

The redhead traced over his features, just wanting to take him in and embrace the way this man made him feel. He still wanted him, perhaps more than anything else and wasn’t going to pause long enough to second guess it, not needing or caring to do so, only needing Mickey right now.

“Yeah,” Ian agreed with a nod, “I could definitely use a fucking beer,” he smiled.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got an update for ya! :)  
> Kinda quick for an update for me haha, but I was on a good flow after the last chapter and just ran with it.  
> Still editing, as always, but I hope you guys like it!  
> Please let me know what you think! :)  
> Enjoy! :)

They swam back across the lake, keeping close by each other’s sides, still stealing glances and exchanging smirks until they reached the shore and made their way back around the rock, not wanting to climb back over to retrieve their hidden belongings. The August breeze was warm on their skin, rustling their hair and drying their limbs by the time they completed their trek and uncovered Ian’s backpack to redress, both men’s gazes lingering on the other as they did. Both men replaced their clean clothes with their long dried out, muddied clothes, zipping them away inside Ian’s backpack and dressed in relative silence, though each bold gaze they continued to share would speak volumes on their own, the traces of longing and admiration still mutually bright within each man’s eyes. Neither seemed to be able to look away for very long, if at all, both very clearly still feeling lured and enticed with each other. The air remained thick, but still comfortable between each other as Mickey slipped Ian’s pack back onto his back, the other man smiled a bit as he did without any pause or question in him doing so and easy moved to walk back through the woods beside him. 

The glances continued to shoot between them, each fighting down smirks as Ian tried not to let the hint of intimacy he’d experienced with the man just a short bit ago overwhelm and consume his mind too much. He still wanted the man, physically, intimately, in an almost primal way, but Ian still wanted to know more about Mickey as a person as well. He wanted to learn everything he possibly could about this amazing man, wanted to know him on a much more personal level than merely mutual attraction, really feeling like there was so much more beneath his surface to be uncovered and revealed. The redhead was really beginning to like the man quite a bit and it was happening fast, but he still didn’t want to stop it, anxious and excited for whatever there was to come. 

So instead, he tried to think of something more to talk about, something to ask about, to discover about him, anything at all, biting his lip and stealing another subtle glance toward Mickey as he did. His eyes fell from the man’s face down to the tattoo on his bicep, exposed from yet another sleeveless shirt, refusing to let his sight linger too long on the thin wisps of smoky ink that crept along his ribs, then lifted them back up and tipped his chin with question. 

“So, you really did all these yourself?” Ian asked with a point of his index finger and an interested, studying gaze. The dark haired man creased his brow a bit as he met his eyes before dropping them to his arm as well, seeing the large, evilly grinning skull etched into his skin, then smirked himself. 

“Yeah, man,” replied Mickey, then arched his brow with a small shrug, “Not too fuckin' much ya can’t do with a stencil and a mirror,” he chuckled. The redhead smiled a bit, then arched an eyebrow of his own. 

“I thought you didn’t like using stencils,” Ian reminded him curiously and the other man nodded. 

“Typically, no,” Mickey confirmed, then cocked his head as he turned to meet his eyes again, “But if I’m usin' a fuckin' mirror to see and I know I’m gonna have to fuckin' live with the shit if I fuck it up,” he explained speaking with his hands a bit, “I'd rather play it fuckin' safe, than end up fuckin' sorry with some bullshit on my arm forever,” Mickey finalized, raising his eyebrows, then shrugged again, “So, sometimes I make exceptions, not just with bigger shit,” he said. Ian pushed out his lip with a nod, then tipped his chin again as his eyes moved to trace back along the side of the other man’s ribcage. 

“Well, I know you couldn’t have done that with your back,” he observed lightly, the other man listening, but not looking back into his face just yet, chewing his lip a bit before Ian continued, “I mean, unless you’re some sorta contortionist or have a third arm hiding somewhere that I haven’t found yet,” Ian added with a small chuckle. 

Mickey smiled, but only slightly before it faded, keeping his pace and staying silent for a few seconds, making the redhead wonder if he’d perhaps struck some hidden nerve with the other man, before finally he turned his face back to Ian, not really appearing to be very bothered and tilted his head a bit. 

“My brother helped me with that one,” he informed him as they passed through a tall patch of grass and stepped around a large tree trunk, “I still drew the fuckin' stencil though,” Mickey added. Ian held his smile as he looked to the ground to step over a rather large, protruding root, then glanced back up. 

“It’s really cool,” Ian complimented genuinely. The other man thumbed his lip and flashed him the smallest glance before looking back ahead. 

“Thanks,” he replied quietly. 

The redhead watched him for a moment as he fell silent once more, trying to read his expression. Ian could tell that the subject of this particular tattoo really had seemed to strike a chord with the man for reasons he had no way to be sure of. He wanted to ask about it more, figure out what exactly the story was behind it, but he wasn’t going to, knowing full well how personal some tattoos can be to an individual. He even has a tattoo of his own splayed across his ribs that he’d rather not speak about, even having seen the other man notice it as he’d dressed, but gave him the same courtesy of not asking anything about it. Ian figured he would do the same and respect the man’s privacy, choosing to inquire about the other part of the man’s reply instead. 

“So, you got a brother too?” Ian asked, remembering his rather charming sister and wondered if his other sibling was any similar. The dark haired man seemed to ease a bit once again, his muscles relaxing some as both men weaved around another tree and stepped foot back onto the twisty little dirt trail, giving a nod in response. 

“I got three a the fuckers,” Mickey corrected, “And for the most part, they’re all fuckin' morons,” he cracked with another small chuckle, then scratched the bridge of his nose with the back of his thumb, “One of 'em, Iggy, the one who helped me with this shit,” he pointed over his shoulder toward his back with his thumb, “He was supposed to fuckin' come up here with me and Mandy this year,” Mickey elaborated some, then suddenly scoffed with a headshake, “Dumbass got himself fuckin' locked up 'bout a week ago though,” he said. 

“Well, that sucks,” replied the redhead, but the other man simply scoffed again and waved off his words with a loose shake of his palm. 

“It’s his own fuckin' fault,” said Mickey with an insistent tone, not sounding at all empathetic, “He should fuckin' know better than to use a stolen card at a fuckin' ATM,” he stated with a bit of annoyance at the stupidity of the act, then met his eyes, “Asshole forgot about the fuckin' camera,” said Mickey with a bit of a chuckle, earning him a chuckle from the other man as well. 

“Everyone makes mistakes,” Ian offered with a shrug, causing the other man to nod just a bit, then shake his head again. 

“I guess,” Mickey agreed, “Some mistakes are just way fuckin' dumber than others,” he said. The redhead nodded, still following behind Mickey as they walked through the trees, watching his feet some more as he went, before looking back up at the sound of the other man’s voice. 

“You got any fuckin' siblings?” Mickey queried, turning back to shoot the redhead a small, curious glance. Ian smiled wider at the other man still wanting to know more about him as well and answered easily, still feeling quite comfortable with him. 

“Five,” answered Ian, causing the other man to nod with acknowledgement, listening and interested his reply, flashing his eyes back over his face as he spoke, “Three brothers and two sisters,” he elaborated, then scrunched up his face some, “Well I sort of have a half sister too, but it’s kinda complicated,” Ian added a bit more quietly, almost regretting that he’d said it, really not wanting to explain his own conception right this moment. But Mickey seemed to be able to tell as he watched his face and didn’t push it, opting to ask him a different question instead. 

“Any of 'em up here with ya?” he asked and the other man shook his head. 

“No,” Ian said, then reached to rub the back of his neck, “I think they’re just happy to get me back outta the house,” he added with an honest tone, then shrugged again, “It’s cool though,” Ian said just as he saw the other man crease his brow a bit as he listened, “I needed some time away anyway,” he said, “Try to relax and shit, ya know?” Ian asked with an arch of his eyebrow. Mickey began to nod, looking back through the trees, just as they re-emerged into the first field, then arched a sharp eyebrow of his own with a bit of a cocky smirk pulling at his lips. 

“How’s that fuckin' goin' for ya so far?” he grinned, his eyes tracing down along each cut and curve of his chest beneath his shirt before he met his sight again, “Relaxin’?” Mickey asked, his tongue curling and twisting behind the piercing in his lip, raising his chin up just a bit with his expression remaining quite innocent and curious. Ian smirked right back at him, letting his eyes linger on the other man’s face. 

“Definitely,” Ian replied in a sure, confident tone, his voice slick and smooth, “Going a lot fucking better than I imagined it would,” he assured, fighting the urge to wink at the other man and risk Mickey thinking he’s a corny dork. 

But he still really liked the man and wanted to show him how he was beginning to feel about him in really any way he could. So he went for it, shooting him a small, flirty wink, holding his breath just as it fluttered away from his eyelashes. Though, if the other man thought he was being cheesy, corny or anything of the sort, he didn’t comment on it, merely widening his smile and sliding his tongue across his lip ring with a long, appealing gaze, then turned his face away to weave back through the other vehicles toward his van without another word. Ian exhaled with a bit of relief, then moved to follow Mickey once again. 

They reached the man’s vehicle and the redhead paused to watch the other man go through his motions of retrieving his key from the cusp of the wheel well, then turned to unlock the rear door. He then arched his neck a bit, looking around it toward Ian, before he gave a flick of his head to join him, which he did with a smile. As the redhead approached, Mickey let the man’s pack slip from his shoulders, then swung it in front of him to set down atop the floor of the van and unzipped it. He removed his muddied clothes, set them inside the vehicle amongst the rest of his things, then pulled the zipper back closed before handing it off to Ian and tilting his head. 

“So, uh, I was gonna fuckin' head back out to look for some more work,” said Mickey, then thumbed his lip ring and shot him a glance before crawling into the van toward his equipment bag, grasped it and turned back around to face Ian, “Ya don’t gotta fuckin' hang around if ya don’t wanna,” he informed him with a single shouldered shrug and the other man creased his brow some as he listened, “Just gonna be a couple fuckin' hours though,” Mickey added, “If ya wanna go hit a fuckin' show or somethin', I can come fuckin' find ya later?” he offered, his expression very questioning, almost shy and Ian wondered if the other man really wanted him to go, or if he was just trying to be polite. The redhead gave a shrug as well, then smiled lightly. 

“I really liked watching you work earlier,” Ian countered a bit, “I meant that. I wasn’t just trying to blow smoke up your ass,” he said, earning him the slightest arch of Mickey’s pierced brow, looking a bit surprised at how honest the redhead seemed, “But, I mean, yeah,” Ian added with another shrug, crossing his arms to lean against the door frame, “If I’m just gonna be in the way or something, I could take off for a while,” he nodded, as much as he’d rather stay with the man, he didn’t want to intrude on his work, but the dark haired man tipped his head a bit with a little hesitation in his eyes. 

“Well, I never fuckin' said you’d be in the way,” Mickey retorted lightly, then chewed his lip a bit with another smirk pulling at the corner of it, “If ya wanna stay, I really don’t give a shit,” he said, “Just didn’t want ya wastin' your fuckin' time up here on my shit,” Mickey explained, but the redhead immediately shook his head in response. 

“You’re not a waste of time at all,” Ian insisted, a small smile still pressed into his face, earning him a wider, flattered smirk from the man still seated on his knees in front of him, “I’d love to watch you work some more,” he said, which was true, though he still just wanted to spend more time with him, no matter what they’d be doing. The dark haired man held his grin, then scooted forward with his backpack to stand and slid it onto his back. 

“Ya sure?” Mickey asked, “There’s plenty a other shit to fuckin' do around here,” he said, “I ain’t gonna be fuckin' offended if you’d rather take off for a while,” added Mickey, seeming like he wanted to be sure he wasn’t simply dragging the redhead along, but Ian only shook his head again. 

“Positive,” Ian replied smoothly, then tilted his head with a sarcastic expression, “Unless you’re just trying to get rid of me?” he queried. The dark haired man laughed a bit, then shook his head as well. 

“Not at all, man,” Mickey assured, then slid his tongue back over his lip, “I don’t fuckin' mind,” he said, then raised the arch in his brow just a little, “Still gotta get ya that fuckin' beer anyway,” he added with a small grin. 

Ian nodded, that was true, then pulled his own backpack on, watching as the other man briefly fumbled and fished through pockets of his muddied pants to retrieve his wallet, cigarettes and lighter before slipping them into his fresh pair on his legs. Mickey then swung the door closed, replaced his key, offered Ian another pointed flick of his head and they were off again. 

They passed back through the trail into the main field and when people started to see Mickey making rounds again, many immediately approached and inquired about his availability. He gave each one a nod and informed them all that’d he’d be back through shortly, stating he had an important errand to run first, which only made Ian drop his face some, trying to hide his blush. As the pair waited in line at the beer booth, they split a cigarette and exchanged more glances, keeping very close by each other’s side, until they approached the vendor and Mickey slapped a few dollars down asking for two cold ones. 

When the man behind the counter took Mickey’s money and passed them their cups, the dark haired man gave a nod, then Ian’s breath slowed as he felt his companion's palm slide across his lower back as they departed from the booth. He kept it there for a moment as they walked, before slowly withdrawing his hand and dropping his eyes to sip on his beverage, both making their way back to the mingle that was awaiting their ink work. 

The redhead tried not to get ahead of himself, tried not to over think the subtle touches or the lingering, reading gazes, but it was difficult, really difficult, still feeling small shivery tingles fizzling up where Mickey had touched him. Whatever it was, it was strong and it was different, a sensation he’d never quite felt before and it happened each and every time there was any contact made between them. Ian really, really liked Mickey and it just seemed to amplify with each passing moment, each passing hour, longing for him more and more. But he knew that he would have to control himself, contain himself, as they were still getting to know each other and right now, the other man had a job to do anyway. 

When they’d made their way back to Mickey’s potential group of customers, one immediately offered him a seat and a greeting smile, which the dark haired man returned with a very leveled and professional expression, then removed his backpack, set his beer down beside him as he sat and began searching through his equipment. He produced his eyeglass case, which he opened to slid them onto the bridge of his nose, then flipped opened a note pad and gave a little blue pen a click. Each person who wanted work done, explained what they wanted and as Mickey copied them down, gave them estimations for time length and price, he organized them on his pad and did the math off the top of his head, very much impressing the redhead beside him. Every person agreed without any debate or argument, so Mickey pulled on a pair of gloves and readied a rig, then got to work on his first client. 

Ian stayed to observe, just like he said he wanted to, sipping his beer and not minding a single bit that he had to stand, much more focused on watching the man beside him work so comfortably and confidently, something he just found to be so incredibly sexy. He found himself staring at Mickey more often than anything else, his sight hardly straying from the man for over an hour, long after he’d finished his drink. The way Mickey’s brow would crease slightly as he concentrated on each piece in front of him and how the veins beneath the ink of his forearms would fill and flush each time he adjusted his grip on the rig were just hard things to look away from, never wanting to stop drinking him in. 

Every once in a while Mickey would flash him a glance or a smirk that made the flutters dance and he took every opportunity to include Ian in any conversation that arose between he and a client, clearly not wanting him to feel at all forgotten, which really did make him feel quite special when he did. And Ian was still having a great fucking time, bobbing his head to the hard, heavy thrumping of a bass atop a stage across the field, accepting another beer from someone as they passed along by who’d simply been handing them out for free and kept a very relaxed smile stuck to his face as his eyes always fell back to Mickey. 

He offered Mickey a swig from his bottle, who tipped his chin in acceptance, and paused his work to take one, before handing it back with a smirk. Then all of a sudden Ian felt a twisting feeling in his stomach and the back of his neck prickled hotly with irritation, now filled with the overwhelming feeling that he was being watched by someone. The redhead took the bottle back from Mickey, as the man returned to inking a large crater covered crescent moon into a woman’s arm, then slowly turned his head to search through the sea of faces around him. His eyes moved carefully over each person as his body began to turn, then stopped instantly when they landed on a face that made the twist in his guts pull tight with disgust and disdain. 

There was Jason, standing alone several yards away, peering right back over at the redhead without any shame at all. Ian swallowed his anger and frowned through a glare, just wanting the other man to disappear and leave him alone. But for an instant, the blonde man across the way seemed to have other intentions in mind as he began to look around Ian with a hopeful expression, seeming to think that he’d found him all alone again as well. But the redhead didn’t want the man to have any hope for a single second, almost instantly enraged that he’d have the audacity to even make such an attempt again, and took a step closer to where Mickey still sat at work in his seat. He then looked down toward him with a smile, reaching a hand down to rub and grasp his shoulder in a rather affectionate way. The dark haired man creased his brow a bit at the sudden contact, but didn’t shake him off, looking up at Ian and easily returned his smile before looking back down again. 

Ian kept his hand where it was before he peered back up to see that the other man had seen his movement and seen Mickey, now looking quite angry at the sight. The redhead simply raised an eyebrow at him and stuck out his chin, almost daring Jason to try walking over here now, try to come and say anything to him at all. But instead the man just seemed to let a frustrated huff push through his nose, then turned to stomp away through the crowd behind him. Ian split a very pleased smile, and looked away as he raised his beer bottle to take another gulp, rubbing his thumb into Mickey’s back with his other hand as he did.

Mickey continued to ink and pierce about a dozen more people before his gaze started to linger more on the redhead beside him than the work in front of him and announced once again that he was taking a break and would be back through later on. There were a few disappointed remarks, but not were vain and all still respectful, thankful for him stopping by, before he began to gather his materials and clean up the space around him. Ian bent to help a bit, collecting discarded wrappers from rings and needles, then turning to throw them away. Just as the other man had nearly all his gear packed back up, Ian made him pause with another grasp of his shoulder and decided to act on a whim. 

“How much for an earring?” Ian asked, causing Mickey to smirk, taking a quick glance toward the redhead’s freckled, unpierced lobes and arched an eyebrow. 

“For you?” he asked back and Ian nodded. Mickey chewed his lip, then tongued the ring before he turned his face back down to his bag and pulled his jewelry case back out. 

“What kinda ring you want?” Mickey queried, unclasping the lid and opening the case. The redhead smiled a bit, then looked from the case back to Mickey with a chuckle. 

“Well, I gotta know how much first,” he explained, but the dark haired man just waved him off. 

“Don’t fuckin' worry about that,” Mickey insisted in a friendly tone, then met his eyes and gestured toward his collection of body jewelry, “Just answer the fuckin' question,” he advised with a grin. The other man shrugged again and leaned forward to peer inside the box.

“Just like a plain stud,” he said, “Nothing fancy.” 

The dark haired man turned his face down and let his fingertips file through one small section of sterile little envelopes, before he found a rather shiny, silver pair of studs and pulled them out to offer over. Ian nodded again in approval, causing Mickey to smirk again, close the case and tuck it back away inside his backpack. 

“Just one?” asked Mickey, as he set the little envelope on his knee and slid on a fresh pair of black rubber gloves. 

“Yeah,” Ian replied, then finished off his beer and moved to take a seat in the chair still across from Mickey. 

The dark haired man pulled out a bottle of piercing disinfectant, a paper towel and a smaller plastic case lined with more envelopes. Then he paused, glanced toward his pack, then back toward the case before reaching in and grasping yet another case that held his piercing gun. He then looked up at Ian, raised both cases and arched an eyebrow. 

“Needle or the gun?” asked Mickey. The redhead pushed out his lip and looked between them, before tipping his chin instead. 

“Which do you recommend?” Ian queried back. The other man dropped his sight to both, then easily raised his case filled with needles and cocked his head. 

“Personally,” he began, “I think every fuckin' piercing should be done with a needle,” said Mickey, then gestured from the needles to the gun case, “Needles pierce, guns just fuckin' puncture,” he explained, then gave a small shrug, “Up to you though, man,” he said. Ian nodded at the response and tipped his chin without hesitation, trusting Mickey’s words. 

“Needle then,” he replied. 

The other man smiled a bit, then turned to toss the gun case back inside his pack, before he opened his needles and pulled a single, sterile envelope. He raised his sight back to Ian, moving briefly from one lobe to the other, then met his eyes. 

“Which one?” Mickey asked. Ian hadn’t really thought that far ahead, but also really didn’t care too much either way. He turned his head a bit and offered one over. 

“The right one, I guess,” he said, then creased his brow with confusion just as the response caused the other man to rumble his throat with a punch of a chuckle. He shot him a questioning expression and tilted his head again, so Mickey gave a point. 

“Ya know that’s the gay ear, right?” he asked, his humor still bouncing behind his chest, but the other man only raised an eyebrow. 

“There’s a gay ear?” Ian queried back and Mickey tipped his head back to laugh some more. He calmed a bit and met his eyes again. 

“You didn’t fuckin' know that?” wondered Mickey, his face still very much amused. The redhead split an innocent smirk and simply shrugged yet again. 

“Apparently not,” said Ian. The dark haired man let another chuckle slip from his lips and he shook his head with a bit of disbelief. 

“You’re a bad fuckin' faggot, man,” Mickey laughed, which coaxed a laugh out of Ian as well, who instantly flipped him off in return.

“Shut the fuck up,” Ian shot back in a heatless tone, then offered the same ear once more, “You gonna fucking pierce me or not?” he challenged. The dark haired man held his smile, rolled his tongue beneath his lip, then curled a forefinger. 

“C'mere,” he requested lightly. Ian grasped the bottom of his chair, scooted it forward a bit, then sat and turned his head. 

Mickey leaned forward with his disinfectant, soaked a bit into his paper towel and cleaned both sides of Ian’s earlobe, then sat back for a moment to open both the envelope for the needle and the earring and looked back up. 

“You ready?” he asked with needle in hand and an arch along his brow.

Ian held a confident smile, tipped his chin, then flicked his head toward himself for the other man to proceed. So, Mickey mirrored his smile, then leaned forward once more and with hardly a pinch, the needle was through without a single drop of blood or even the smallest wince of pain. He used the needle to guide the earring through, clasped on the back loose enough so that it wouldn’t be uncomfortable, then sat back again to observe his work and crumple the wrappers between his palms. Ian raised a curious eyebrow, reading the other man’s expression who smirked, then pointed with his brow. 

“Looks pretty fuckin' good, man,” Mickey praised, then turned to put his needle case into his pack, exchanging it for a small hand mirror and held it up, “Whatcha think?” he asked. The redhead looked himself over, smiling at the new little silver stud in the center of his earlobe, then grinned up at the face of his piercer. 

“I like it,” Ian replied, “A lot,” he added, causing the other man to lower the mirror with a satisfied expression, then put it away as well, “Thank you,” said Ian. 

“Not a fuckin' problem, man,” said Mickey, then upturned both palms, “It’s my fuckin' job,” he smirked, “Ears are just quick and simple shit anyway,” he added with a shrug and a loose wave of his hand. The redhead let his gaze linger on the man as he finished putting away the last of his equipment, removed his gloves, put his glasses away, then discarded his waste and began to stand, before Ian tilted his head. 

“You still never told me how much,” Ian reminded him, but Mickey just chuckled once more and waved him off again. 

“I told ya not to fuckin' worry about it,” he reminded as well, then swung his backpack over a single shoulder and flashed him another smirk, “You complainin'?” asked Mickey. 

“Not at all,” replied the redhead, moving to step beside Mickey as they began to walk again, “I just don’t wanna take away from your business,” he explained. 

“You’re not,” Mickey responded, his tone sounding very reassuring, “I make fuckin' plenty up here, man,” he said as he reached down into his pocket for his cigarettes, then met his eyes, “Ain’t nothin' I can’t afford to spare,” he smirked. 

Ian smiled back at him, feeling quite special again for the other man not charging him anything for the piercing, same as he had with his tongue ring, though he would have gladly paid if Mickey had let him. The man was quite talented and did wonderful work, so of course Ian thought he deserved to be fairly compensated. But the dark haired man didn’t seem to want him to push it, but wanted him to accept it, simply like a gift without any strings attached. So, that’s exactly what Ian tried to do, merely smiling quietly once more as Mickey passed his cigarette over to share with him. 

They walked back through the festival quite aimlessly, more drawn into the conversation between themselves than much of anything else. The afternoon sky was beginning to dim just a bit as the sun moved back across the sky, hovering just above the top of the tree line, but neither seemed to really notice or care as they passed by a few stages and loitered a bit around the vendors' booths, just enjoying their time together.

They even stopped for a while to share a meal, having both worked up quite the appetite and still hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast, coming across a man grilling various cuts of chicken slathered in barbeque sauce and of course a cooler filled with beer at his feet. The pair ordered two more beers and a large plate of wings, which Ian insisted he be the one to pay for despite the other man’s light, humored protests against it. Then both men found an unoccupied log beside a random fire pit, not too far from the music wafting out from another stage beyond the crowds and settled down to eat together. 

As both men ate, their conversation continued very comfortably, with the occasional chuckle or punch of laugher that arose from a joke or some witty retort. The smiles and the gazes were still there, growing heavier between them as they ate, the sun above them dimming a bit more and Ian couldn’t help but start staring again, eyes continuously flickering back down to Mickey’s lips as he chewed and ate his food. Fuck, did he want to kiss him again, so very badly, wishing he could right in this moment as green eyes traced ever so softly over the rest of his face, memorizing every little feature. 

But then Mickey seemed to notice and suddenly raised his eyes as well, catching him within his longing gaze and arched a curious eyebrow. The redhead swallowed, feeling a bright, red blush rise into his cheeks, then silently dropped his sight to take a bite of chicken. He chewed for a moment, then slowly peeked back up to find the other man still watching him, much in the same way Ian had been watching Mickey just a second ago. He then smiled a bit, before reaching over with the pad of his thumb to swipe a bit of sauce from under the redhead’s lip that he hadn’t even known was there. Ian kept watching as Mickey pulled his hand back, raised it to his lips, then very slowly sucked the sauce off his thumb. Ian’s eyes flickered again over an exhale. 

“Fuck,” he breathed in the smallest possible whisper, causing the other man to remove his thumb and smirk even wider. 

“Somethin' on your mind, Ian?” Mickey queried lightly, his voice laced with innocence. The redhead licked his lips and swallowed again. 

“Just you,” Ian confessed, his voice still cautious and low. 

The other man held his smirk, but raised his eyebrows a bit as if he weren’t quite expecting such honesty, then licked his own lips as well and began crumple his fingers into a napkin.

“Wanna go fuckin' do somethin'?” asked Mickey, his tone sounding very open to whatever possibility arose, clearly having the redhead on his mind as well, “Toke?” he offered. 

Ian took one last bite of his chicken wing, dropped the bone down onto their plate, then wiped his fingers off onto a napkin as well and took a sip of beer, hoping to cool the rising heat he felt within. 

“Sure,” he replied, then dropped his soiled napkin atop the plate as well, “Where do you wanna go?” Ian asked, “Just back into the woods?” he wondered with a gesture of his elbow toward the nearby tree line. The dark haired man seemed to hesitate a bit in thought, looking Ian over for a silent moment as he ran his thumb along his lip, then arched an eyebrow. 

“I was kinda thinkin' somewhere with a little more fuckin' privacy,” Mickey said on the contrary, his tone a little lower and a bit suggestive but not blatantly obvious of his intentions, then offered a bit of an explanation, “Lots a assholes in the woods right now,” he said, “And uh, I’d rather only fuckin' smoke with you,” Mickey added, his gaze still warm and soft on the other man’s face. Ian couldn’t fight the smile that appeared on his lips and gave a nod. 

“Okay,” he replied, then glanced around a bit before another thought entered his mind and he looked back at Mickey, “Wanna go back to your van then?” Ian asked. The same hesitation seemed to appear again as the dark haired man thumbed his lower lip once more and gave a head cock. 

“I kinda wanted to see where the fuck you’re staying,” Mickey stated instead, his voice very curious, then flicked his head down a pathway filled with foot traffic, “You said you got a fuckin' tent out there, right?” he queried. 

Then it was Ian who hesitated, feeling a bit embarrassed about his tiny orange rectangle of fabric, really only big enough for himself mostly and wasn’t quite sure how to respond. He didn’t want to turn the man down, especially with everything still going so well, but he wasn’t going to lie either, not wanting to break the trust he’s already begun to earn with him. He reached to rub the back of his neck, looking at the other man’s face as he patiently awaited his response, then gave a single slow nod. 

“Yeah, I do,” Ian said, then dropped his palm from his neck to upturn it atop his knee, “But it’s just like a one-man kinda thing,” he explained, “Small and cramped,” the redhead added, “Not very roomy,” he said, concealing his nerves, hoping the other man didn’t seem offended by his reply. But the dark haired man merely smirked again with a small chuckle on his lips and made a brief, sweeping gesture toward himself. 

“Do I look like I take up very much fuckin' room?” asked Mickey. 

The redhead blinked, not quite expecting that, but felt quite relieved regardless, his embarrassment quickly fading away as he read over the other man’s expression and suddenly thought, 'What the hell.' 

“I'll take you out there if that’s where you wanna go,” Ian assured, just eager and anxious all over again to get the chance of spending more time alone with him, “Did you wanna smoke now?” he asked, causing the other man split a very satisfied grin and nod with surety. 

“Fuck yeah,” Mickey replied, then grabbed their empty plate along with his half empty beer and began to stand, “Let’s fuckin' go, man,” he directed with a head flick. 

Ian rose as well, moving to walk beside Mickey as they threw their trash away, both chugging down the rest of their bottles to toss as well, then began their stroll back toward the trail and into the other field. 

The redhead tried to resist the urge to twiddle his thumbs as they made their way over to the large patch of tents, still excited, but a little nervous of what the other man would think actually setting eyes on his pitiful little sleeping space. But when they approached, Mickey’s expression didn’t change a bit, arching his pierced brow and flashing him another smirk as they passed Ian’s coworker's empty tent and closed the space toward his own. Ian crouched down, slipped off his pack, then unzipped his tent and the other man mirrored his movements, now crouching down beside him as well. The redhead made a small gesture toward the inside with his chin. 

“Like I said,” he stated flatly, “Not much space,” said Ian. But Mickey just chuckled and shrugged a single shoulder. 

“Looks alright to me,” Mickey countered, then smirked at Ian one final time before moving to crawl inside. 

Ian watched him, expecting the man to sit and cross his legs near the other end, but instead, he placed his backpack atop Ian’s little cooler, next to his clothes, then claimed a side to lay on, propping himself up on an elbow and began to fish through a smaller pocket on the outside of his pack. The redhead took a deep breath, keeping himself collected and not letting his anxious excitement and the creeping rush of anticipation overwhelm him, then crawled inside as well, zipping the tent closed behind him. 

The orange of the tent's material blanketed them in a soft, golden color, brightening the soft wisps of tangerine atop Ian’s head, which the other man glanced at for a second with a smile, then pulled a small black case from his bag. The redhead placed his own backpack next to Mickey’s then laid down on his side to face him, settling into the space. 

Mickey opened the little oval case to reveal a small bag of weed and a shiny, metal pipe, then began to open the bag and pack a bowl for them to smoke. Ian stayed fairly quiet while he did, absentmindedly raising a hand to his freshly pierced ear and gave the stud a soothing little twist, still trying to get used to it being there. The dark haired man then finished preparing the bud, closed the case, then lifted his eyes to look at Ian. 

“You got a fuckin' light?” asked Mickey, then pointed toward his pants pocket, “All I got is my fuckin' zippo,” he said. The redhead gave a nod, then twisted a bit to dig through his backpack until he found one and handed it over, “Thanks,” he said. 

Mickey raised the pipe to his lips, flicked the lighter to spark with flame and sucked in a long, deep pull before passing it to the man who lay hardly a few inches away from him. Ian grasped it and pulled a large hit as well, the other man’s eyes lingering on the pucker of his lips and the hallows of his cheeks as he did. The redhead passed it back, then offered a chin tip. 

“Nice pipe,” Ian complimented and the other man smiled a bit, returning his chin tip. 

“Thanks, man,” Mickey replied, then pulled more smoke into his lungs to hold tightly inside his chest, “Not as fuckin' fancy as a lot a the glass shit, but it’s better at least,” he said, exhaling a large, thick cloud around them. Ian smiled a bit and creased his brow. 

“Better how?” the redhead queried. 

Mickey arched his brow, then pushed the bud down into a harder pack within the bowl before dropping it quite carelessly between them on the floor with a heavy clunk. Ian only creased his brow a bit further, then met Mickey’s gaze just as he pointed down toward it. 

“Didn’t fuckin' break, did it?” he asked back, his brow still arched and a cocky smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. The redhead chuckled as the realization hit him, then nodded, reaching to pick it back up and took the lighter from Mickey as well. 

“Good point,” Ian agreed, then raised the pipe to hit and the other man chuckled too. 

They chatted a little further about nothing much in particular, sharing smoke, passing the bowl and gradually moving a little closer to each other within the fog, still seemingly drawn in to one another. Before very long the bud was gone, though neither man moved to exit the tent, their gazes still heavy on each other’s faces and their sights growing a bit heated once again.

At one point while they were talking Ian took a chance, feeling quite confident within their privacy and reached for Mickey’s hand, lacing their fingers together. The dark haired man took his hand easily and without hesitation, even smiling a bit more as their fingers weaved softly through each other’s grasp. 

A few more hours passed as they lay comfortably close together inside the tiny space, sharing more and learning more in return and it just felt so natural, it was becoming so incredibly easy. They spoke a little more about their lives, but mostly just simple things, along with their interests, finding quite a few similarities between them. Both men asked each other questions about all sorts of things, the interest to discover more about the other never seeming to fade, even delving into slightly personal territory occasionally, but not really seeming to mind. Then the conversation turned a bit heavy again, in a way that Ian honestly hadn’t predicted. 

“You were a fuckin' stripper?” Mickey asked with surprise, his eyebrows shooting halfway up his forehead. The redhead shook his head with a chuckle, his thumb still brushing gently along Mickey’s. 

“Dancer,” Ian corrected with emphasis, “I didn’t always have to take my clothes off,” he explained, “I just got paid to dance,” said Ian. The other man kept his pierced brow raised as he gave his body a slow sweeping glance, then smirked a bit. 

“Like in a fuckin' thong or some shit like that?” he queried further and the redhead chuckled again with a nod. 

“Sometimes,” Ian replied, causing the dark hard man to bite his lower lip, then looked him over again with a very intrigued expression and the redhead simply smiled under his gaze. 

“I bet that’s some shit to fuckin' see,” Mickey mentioned, his voice laced in a very sure and impressive tone, not seeming to mind the redhead’s former occupation a single bit, which Ian was quite glad for, having been judged quite harshly for it in the past. He then split a sly smirk and raised an eyebrow of his own. 

“You asking me to dance for you?” Ian queried. The dark haired man held his own smirk, curling his tongue behind his cheek, then shrugged as his hand gripped Ian’s a little tighter. 

“I’m not askin',” Mickey replied with the same innocent tone he had earlier when he’d sucked Ian’s barbeque sauce off his thumb, then tongued his lip ring and tilted his head, “Sure as fuck wouldn’t turn it down though,” he admitted with a rather playful grin. Ian returned his grin with a quick glance around their current confined space, then looked back at Mickey. 

“Not very much room in here,” he noted, but the dark haired man just pushed his lip out a bit with a small shake of his head. 

“I don’t fuckin' mind waitin',” said Mickey, then met his eyes with another heavy gaze, “Least not for you,” he added smoothly. 

Ian’s eyes flickered at the words, feeling the flutters inside his chest suddenly surge up into his throat, now quite unsure if he’d be able to control his urge and craving for the man for very much longer. He let his fingers twist through Mickey’s as he slowly shifted closer, his eyes hooding just a bit and spoke very lowly. 

“You make it so hard sometimes, you know that?” asked Ian, his face moving closer to the other man’s, who bit his lip again as he watched him come nearer, then arched another eyebrow, a very suggestive smirk still pressed into his lips. 

“That a pun?” Mickey asked back with a hint of humor and another grin. Ian smiled lightly as well, but kept his focus, moving even closer. 

“Could be,” he replied lowly, causing the dark haired man’s eyes to hood a bit more, his fingers moving between Ian’s as well and the redhead let his gaze fall to Mickey’s lips once again, the craving beginning to become so very overwhelming for him that he just needed to try.

“It’s just so difficult to control myself around you, Mick,” said Ian, then raised his eyes back to the beautiful shimmering set of blues still watching him just as closely, “I just keep wanting you,” he confessed, his voice still smooth and low. 

The other man’s breath shook with anticipation at the words, but only barely light enough for the redhead to catch it, clearly sharing the same craving and want that Ian had, then ran his tongue along his lower lip, and moved a little closer as well. 

“Whatcha fuckin' want then, man?” asked Mickey, not at all turning him down, but instead seeming to appear quite appealed at the confession, wanting to know more. The redhead closed almost the very last of the space between them, both men’s lips barely hovering in front of the other's, but neither moved first, not just yet. 

“You ready to cash in that raincheck yet?” Ian queried in a very seductive voice, savoring the scent of the other man as it tickled his nose being so close, then let his lower lip brush over Mickey’s just slightly. The dark haired man ran his tongue back over the same spot, then bit it, sucking his lip into his mouth and cocked his head some with a smooth expression, his brow arching sharply.

“Come on, man,” Mickey invited, his voice low as well, “Show me whatcha fuckin' got,” he said. 

The redhead didn’t pause or hesitate any longer, moving forward the tiny bit he needed to connect their lips with a deep, eager kiss, which the other man easily reciprocated, even bringing a hand up to the back of Ian’s head to keep him there. Their lips parted almost instantly, with a feeling of urgency, both seeming to need the quench from the other, tingles and ripples flowing out from between them and it felt simply electric. 

Ian slid his tongue along Mickey’s, the piercing within it clinking lightly over the other man's lip ring, which seemed to urge him on even more, kissing him harder and pulling him closer, which the redhead quite easily let him do. He brought a hand to the side of Mickey’s face, his thumb lightly tracing his jaw line, before falling to his neck and then his chest, wanting to feel the hard, lean muscles beneath his shirt and the beat of his heart within. The dark haired man let him just as well, sighing lightly into Ian’s mouth, clearly enjoying the way the other man was touching him, softly searching every line and crease with care, slowly exploring his body little by little, bit by bit.

Then Mickey seemed to follow his lead, letting his own hand move down from it’s grasp within Ian’s hair across his chest as well, rubbing his thumb over a single pierced nipple before traveling lower to feel along his abs. Ian pushed further into their kiss, causing Mickey to push back just as much, and the tension between them grew when he did, with heavy breaths and dancing tongues, neither seeming quite able to stop themselves within their rush. The redhead leaned a bit more, slowly urging Mickey onto his back, who started to just a bit, before he grasped the bottom of Ian’s shirt to lift up and pull over his head. 

The redhead let him once again, then threw it aside to indulge in another rough, wet kiss, his own hands returning to Mickey’s body, beginning to roam up the other man’s shirt, pushing it higher as he went. Mickey peeled his off as well, breaking their kiss for hardly an instant before surging back into their embrace, clutching the back of his head once more. 

Then Ian shifted, moving Mickey onto his back completely, then jumped with a slight hiss when he felt the man move his hand again, grab the barbell in his nipple and gave it a pull. He opened his eyes in a flutter, seeing the man looking back at him with a cocky grin split across his face and exhaled a shaky breath. Mickey’s eyes flickered between Ian’s just before he tempted him with the tip of his tongue, much like the other man had done to him earlier, licking his lip just a bit, then closed them again when Ian instantly moved back in for more, unable to resist the addicting flavor of his mouth. 

Ian pressed his body down onto Mickey’s, moving a leg between his to gently rut against him and roll his hips down. A small, breathy moan escaped the other man, just before he dropped his palm to rub it over the thick, long cock inside the redhead’s jeans. Ian let a moan slip as well, and attempted to stifle it over Mickey’s soft, succulent lips. Though, as much as he enjoyed the sensation, he didn’t find it very fair considering what’d happened between them earlier, really wanting to be the one to take the lead for a bit and shook his head lightly before whispering softly against Mickey’s lips. 

“It’s your turn right now,” he said. The dark haired man groaned pleasurably at the words, knitting his eyebrows together, but hesitated a bit, before he conceded and slid his palm up to Ian’s hip with another grasp. 

So then it was Ian who reached down, palming the hardened bulge behind Mickey’s zipper with intention, enjoying the heat of the man’s cock beneath his hand. Their eyes stayed locked as he did, the other man’s face becoming more and more aroused the longer Ian rubbed and stoked through the fabric of his pants, then arched his neck to connect their lips again, both their gazes fluttering back closed. 

Ian twisted his tongue along Mickey’s who seemed to mirror every moment, their kisses perfectly intertwined and in sync as if they were meant to be shared with only each other and no one else ever again. As the redhead savored and relished the feeling of Mickey’s lips on his own, his hand began to search more, unbuttoning the other man’s pants and pulling his zipper down. The dark haired man’s breath hitched when he did, the tips of his fingers trembling lightly along the redhead’s skin as if he were still trying to control his own nerves, appearing quite worked up, almost needing to be touched further. Ian hummed into their kiss, then pulled on the waistband of Mickey’s boxers, just before he slipped his hand inside. 

Mickey’s cock was thick, heavy and hot inside Ian's hand as he began to stroke him, quite liking what he felt and enjoyed the other quiet moan that rolled it’s way up the man’s throat from the contact. He smiled lightly, then deepened their kiss once more, his hand still moving, beginning to pull a bit faster, a bit firmer. The dark haired man kissed him back with the same hunger as before, just before he turned his head to bite down on Ian’s neck with a quick, sharp snap, earning a moan out of him in return. The redhead dipped his face to bite him back and Mickey simply moaned into his flesh, lifting his hips up just slightly as Ian’s fist quickened again, stroking his cock out of his pants. Ian sucked a deep, red mark into the other man neck when he felt him release his teeth and bite again, then covered it with a hard, wet kiss, the cold metal of his lip ring such a shivering contrast to the intense heat of his mouth, sending a speckle of chilly little bumps down his spine. 

Then he opened his eyes, wanting to see more of the man beneath him and glanced down toward his hand, his sight landing on the hard, girthy cock within his grip, licking his lips at what he saw. He wasn’t quite the same length as Ian was, but well above average, just enough that Ian knew his mouth and throat would have to stretch a bit to fit around. But the redhead really, really wanted to try, wanting to take the man inside his mouth as deeply as he could, swallow him up and hear what Mickey sounds like when he moans even louder, thinking of just the thing that might make that happen.

His heart began to race and his mouth watered, quickly raising a hand to his mouth to give his tongue ring a twist, hearing it begin to buzz and hum with life. The other man seemed to hear it too and bit Ian again, causing him to turn him face back toward Mickey’s neck to begin tracing a trail of hard, needy kisses all the way down his chest, pausing here and there to suck more reddish purpling marks into his skin, the dark haired man gasping and hitching with every single one.

Mickey looked down, as Ian hovered over him, giving every curve and crease attention as if he were laying claim to each and every one, wanting to touch and taste every inch of him. The redhead kept one hand pumping his cock and caressed the man’s skin with the other as he slowly worked his way down. Mickey watched him the whole way, almost shuddering under his breath as Ian’s tongue swirled and twisted over his pelvis tattoo, then bit down on his hip, vibrating the bone beneath it, which earned him another, slightly deeper moan that Mickey tried to muffle with a lip bite. Green eyes looked up to see him slide his tongue over his lip ring and exhale. 

“Fuck, man,” Mickey breathed quietly with a hazy, lustful blink. 

The redhead smiled and arched a sly eyebrow, just before he placed another soft, tender kiss into Mickey’s skin. Then Ian looked down again, his eyes landing on the other man’s cock, his fist slowing a bit, but not stopping, then swept his tongue out over it’s end, buzzing his piercing along it, and felt Mickey shiver beneath him as he did. He glanced back up, landing on the man’s face once more, his eyes heavy and glossed, and his brow creased deep with pleasure and Ian knew he’d be able to make him completely melt apart, shooting him one last smirk before he turned his face back down. 

He wrapped his lips around the head of Mickey’s cock and twisted his tongue in circles as he gave a long slow suck that hollowed out his cheeks and the man above him really did begin to melt, just the way he wanted him to. 

“Fuuuck, man,” Mickey moaned out a little louder, shifting his body a bit and bending his knees just slightly, unable to look away as the redhead sucked again, his neck twisting and turning along with his tongue. 

Then Ian opened his mouth wider, sinking his head down further, earing him another quiet moan from the man above him, just as he felt the gentle comb of fingertips lacing through his hair. Mickey didn’t push him, just held him, lightly gripping the soft red strands that covered his scalp, blue eyes still glued to his motions. And Ian swallowed around him as his nose met the dark, black curls at the base of his cock, then pulled back up with another hard slow suck, the ring in his tongue purring and buzzing as he went. The dark haired man moaned behind another lip bite as his limbs began to tremble lightly and Ian began to speed up. 

He started taking him in, pushing the head of Mickey’s cock into the back of his throat with a clench from every single dip and bob of his head, his vibrating tongue still twisting and swirling around him, causing Mickey to close his eyes and let his head fall back for a bit, overwhelmed by the intensity, his hand gripping tighter. Ian hummed around him, becoming drunk on his flavor, and quickened his movements in wet eager sucks, his lips turning rather noisy within the little space. But every slick, wet sound seemed to be drown out by the soft, pleasurable melody of sounds that were spilling from Mickey’s lips, the man above seemingly lost to all else right now. 

The redhead began to rub both palms up over Mickey’s chest, caressing his muscles again, unable to feel enough of him, as the taste on his tongue began to tang, a bit of saltiness beginning to spread along his palate and he swallowed around him again, just as Mickey’s muscles began to tense on a hitch of breath. Suddenly the dark haired man lifted his head back up, eyes flashing open and he gripped Ian’s hair again. 

“Wait,” breathed Mickey, his knees bending slightly once again as he released a bit of a pant. Ian paused and lifted his head a bit with an eyebrow raised, not quite sure why the other man had stopped him. 

“Turn around,” he directed, still a bit out of breath. The redhead lifted his head a bit more, slowly letting the other man’s cock slip from his mouth, still a bit confused. 

“What?” Ian asked. Mickey let out another small pant and chuckled, then raised his eyebrows just slightly. 

“I need somethin' else to fuckin’ focus on, or Imma end up bustin' way too fuckin' soon,” explained Mickey, then released his grasp on Ian’s scalp to make a turning motion with a pointed finger, “So, turn the fuck around,” he said. 

Ian paused for a second in thought, but didn’t have to contemplate the request for very long, dropping a hand to the strain within his jeans and bit his lip. So, he sat back up to turn his body around within the tiny space as Mickey shifted onto his side to make room for him. The instant he was situated, he grasped a hand back around the other man’s cock, giving it a firm, slow pull just as he felt the button of his jeans being fumbled with. The redhead dropped his eyes to see Mickey with his gaze set on the long, hard erection trapped behind the denim in front of him, licking his lips as he pulled down his zipper to release it from it’s prison. 

When Mickey pulled out Ian’s cock, he ran his tongue along his lower lip as his eyes hooded further from seeing this massive thing up close. He gave him a few firm strokes and jerks before he licked his lips a final time, then opened his mouth to sink his throat nearly the whole way down. Ian swallowed a moan as he watched and his legs punched out a tremble. 

“Holy fuck, Mick,” Ian whispered with an astonished gaze and Mickey simply hummed at the praise as he set himself into a rhythm, his throat clenching as pink, plump lips puckered around him. 

The redhead wanted to watch longer but couldn’t, knowing he wouldn’t last long either if he did, but also because he still had another hard cock in his hand that needed attention too. So he looked away, putting his focus back on what he’d been doing a moment ago and sucked Mickey back into his mouth. And now when Mickey would moan, groan or make any noise at all, it was like his whole mouth was vibrating, probably much similar to the way Ian’s tongue ring did and it took all Ian had not to begin melting himself. 

Both men sucked each other off with such vigor, as if the act itself were scratching some uncomfortable itch that’d long been neglected and they couldn’t seem to get enough. Every time one felt the other swallow, they seemed to get the same urge and push back just as much licking, sucking and clenching their throat back in return, and it almost became sort of a challenge. Each and every moan would coax the other to work harder, both beginning to grasp at each other’s thighs and hips, pulling them both closer into one another. Ian and Mickey were both flushed with need and lust, yet both seemed entirely focused on being the one to push the other over the edge first, fighting back their own release. 

Ian tried to stay in control, but Mickey’s mouth was just so slick and tight and talented, that he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist breaking his focus and cumming much longer, no matter how determined he was to go last. Then the dark haired man curled his tongue and circled his neck as he gave a hard suck around the head of Ian’s cock, before sliding back down with a swallow and Ian just couldn’t take any more. 

A deep, breathy, very unabashed moan came flowing out from Ian’s mouth, muffling around Mickey’s girth, before he pulled his face back and dropped his eyes just as he felt all his muscles tense and his balls pulled up tight. He heard the other man’s breath hitch a bit just before he began to cum and saw him grasp a tight grip from his hips, around to his ass, then squeezed as he pulled him in close, pushing Ian’s cock as far into his mouth as he could, and that’s what did it. Mickey let an extremely lustful and satisfied moan pass through his nose, swallowing around Ian as he came hard down his throat. 

And immediately Ian looked back up, unable to take the sight of the man so willingly and wantingly swallowing down everything he gave him and pushed back down onto Mickey with his mouth to pull the other man over the edge with him, his own orgasm still rippling through his body. But almost the second he did, Ian felt Mickey’s muscles tighten and he moaned again, his mouth still draining the last of Ian’s shot, before almost instantly he pushed forward to cum as well. The redhead bobbed his head through his spurts and hummed with each suck, loving the hot, tangy sensation that filled his mouth and ran down his throat, needing to have it all. 

Their breaths were still heavy as each man slowed their movements before stopping from just too much sensitivity and leaned back a bit, their gazes dropping and connecting through the haze. Mickey licked his lips and Ian wiped his mouth before the former let out a winded exhale.

“Goddamn, man,” he said, then managed a smirk has his chest continued to calm, a thin, light sheen of sweat coating him within the heat, then gave the slightest flick of his head, “C'mere,” Mickey requested softly, his eyes soft and admiring. 

Ian smiled lightly, his breath still calming as well and his own body covered in the same sweat, feeling the same tire and satisfaction that the other man did, wanting to express what he was feeling well and moved to turn back around. He hovered back over Mickey and leaned down to kiss him, when his tongue ring brushed over the man’s lip piercing with a buzz and Mickey chuckled. 

“You gotta turn that fuckin' thing off first,” he smirked with a pointed brow, causing Ian to smile again, then twist the ring back off. 

Then they kissed again, slowly and tenderly, letting so many things be said in such complete and perfect silence, hands softly returning to grasp at hair and tongues gently moving together. And it simply felt amazing. 

Ian couldn’t explain why he felt the way he did, why felt so strongly, so quickly, but he knew it was still something different, something special and he didn’t want to be apart from Mickey if he could help it. As long as he was up here with him, he wanted as much of the man as he could get, a small part of him hoping that maybe they’d even stay connected in some way after the festival was over. But while he was still here with him now, he wanted to savor every single second, kissing him more deeply, before he pulled back just enough to speak. 

“Stay with me tonight?” Ian asked, the hope in his voice longing and clear, hoping the other man felt the same. Mickey smiled against his lips, blue flickering between green, then arched an eyebrow back at him. 

“You fuckin' spent already, man?” he asked in return, “The night’s still pretty fuckin' young,” said Mickey. 

For a moment, Ian wasn’t sure if he was turning him down, but he didn’t seem like he wanted to part yet either, letting his eyes trace back over him and his hands still rubbed gently along his back. Then he saw him tip his chin again and shoot him another smirk. 

“We still got shows to hit and shit,” Mickey said. 

Ian looked over his expression before offering a small smile and an accepting nod, not feeling shot down just yet, so the hope in his chest remained. Both men sat up to tuck away their spent appendages, readjust themselves and redress, as best as they could bumping elbows and knocking shoulders and laughing at each other as they did. Then the redhead pulled his pack into his lap to sort through and rearrange, removing his dried, muddy clothes from earlier and replacing them with a few beers from his cooler. When he was ready Mickey was too, grabbing his own backpack as well and together they emerged from the steamy little tent. 

When they got back into the main field, they fell back into the same mood as before, drinking beer, walking close and talking together all the while. They even made their way back over to the stages, but stayed near the back of the crowd, preferring each other’s current company than clashing about within the mob. Ian was even surprised to receive a few more kisses from the man throughout the night, just when their gazes would linger a bit too long or when the redhead said something that Mickey had found particularly charming or funny. He wasn’t sure if it was the booze or the atmosphere, but he wasn’t complaining either way, though Mickey did seem to be very genuine in each and every gesture, making Ian’s heart swell every time. 

Then as they were standing alone, still jamming out and grinning in their own little circle, Ian felt the same ugly twisting feeling he’d had in his stomach earlier and suddenly looked away from his companion to peer through some of the other bodies. Then he was met with the same aggravating gaze as before, his eyes landing on Jason just a short distance away, staring at the pair with an expression that was drenched in jealousy. Ian frowned hard as his eyes narrowed into another glare at the sight of him, something Mickey immediately noticed, then creased his brow and turned his face to see Jason as well. The redhead felt the boiling pit of rage rising in his chest as his hands curled into fists, but Mickey just scoffed and looked back at Ian. 

“Asshole don’t have much else goin' on, does he?” Mickey cracked with a point of his thumb. Ian dropped his gaze to the man in front of him and gave a head shake. 

“Fuck no,” said Ian, then tipped his chin toward the blonde man still glaring across the way, “I caught him fucking staring at us earlier too,” he informed him. The dark haired man raised his eyebrows a bit and let out a laugh. 

“Really?” asked Mickey, which the redhead offered a single nod to, before he turned his face back to look over at Jason again. But he only looked for a second, then turned his face back again and peered up into Ian’s face with a shrug. 

“Let him fuckin' look then,” he said, then reached to twist his fingers into a grip within Ian’s shirt and pulled him down for a hard, deep kiss, not at all holding back. 

The redhead was surprised, but kissed him back regardless, until Mickey released him and peered back over toward the blonde man with a cocky expression. He arched his brows high and split a wide proud grin, then promptly flipped him off. Ian let out a loud, amused laugh when he saw the other man simply fume, then turn to stomp away again, and Mickey laughed too. Then their eyes met again, and Jason was forgotten again just as quickly as he’d come, and wasn’t thought of or spoke on the rest of the night.

They fell back into their own little bubble, and wandered back through the festival, staying practically fused to the hip all night long and everything just seemed to keep going wonderfully. Ian felt better than he had in as long as he could really remember, not thinking there could be anything that could possibly top his night or even improve on it at all, simply perfect as it was.

That was, until they made their way back through the trail much later on, exhausted from their rather active and eventful day and Ian turned to part from the other man, beginning to walk back out toward his tent, when Mickey stopped him, took his hand and brought him back to his van instead.

His day then, it’d turned out, had ended a little bit better than perfectly.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey and Ian spend some time talking and things get a little personal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got another update for ya! :) Longest chapter yet. :)  
> Hope it's a good read, flows well and doesn't feel rushed. Still editing of course as well.  
> Lots and lots of dialogue in this chapter, particularly quite a bit of background about Mickey. Can't wait to hear your thoughts! :)  
> Please enjoy! :)

When they’d climbed up and crawled away inside Mickey’s van they were both sleepy and a little drunk, still buzzing from having smoked more weed throughout the night as well. And once the door had swung closed, their lips immediately connected in a soft melody of sleepy, lazy kisses, pulling at each other’s clothes just to get undressed, much too exhausted for any fooling around, but unable to stop themselves from indulging in each other in whatever other ways they could manage. Both men stripped down to their boxer briefs within the darkened space, which was much more comfortable than Ian’s cramped little tent and tangled up together with woven limbs and twisting fingers, sharing a few more quiet whispers until they finally fell asleep. 

A few hours later, Ian shifted and pressed his eyes together tight as a streak of morning sunlight twinkled in through the windshield of Mickey’s van, sparkling through from the crack between a set of dark, blue curtains that separated the front from the back. He groaned lightly from the disturbance, then inhaled a long deep breath, feeling a smile begin to grow on his face as the smoky, peppery scent of the man in his arms filled his senses. Ian opened his eyes just enough see the dark black hair on the back of Mickey’s head and the whisps of smoky grayish ink along his neck that trailed up from the tattoo on his back, which was completely covered beneath Ian’s chest, both still wrapped up very close together. 

Ian just looked at him for a moment, his eyes following the thin veil of stubble along his jawline, then up to the industrial piercing in his ear that shined from the light that touched it, brightening a strip of pale skin across Mickey’s cheek. He was beautiful, so much so that Ian didn’t want to wake him just yet, didn’t want to disturb him, just wanted to see him as he was in the peaceful quiet of his slumber. He leaned his face back toward his just a bit, the tip of his nose brushing against the bottom of the other man’s hairline and inhaled again, silently enjoying the soft, sweet aroma of his skin, shifting just slightly to hold him a little closer, a little more firmly. 

Then Ian noticed something near the top of Mickey’s shoulder blade that moved down across the bone to where it met his spine, before disappearing beneath the blanket of Ian’s chest. He creased his brow a bit, pulling his face back some to inspect a strip of raised flesh that appeared to be some kind of scar, that was imbedded into the skin of Mickey’s back, concealed by the ink of his tattoo. The redhead’s eyes flickered as he very slowly and very carefully moved back a bit more, extremely cautious not to wake the man, then let his sight slowly fall further, seeing even more. His lips parted and his brow creased further as green eyes traced over each one, finding a few the same size, and others that were much thinner, spread along Mickey’s back, crossing over his spine and his ribs, appearing that as if Ian were to smooth his hand down along the man’s skin, he’d be able to feel each and every one that marked his flesh. 

The sight made the redhead’s heart ache in a deep, dark way, hating that the other man had gone through whatever torture he had to be cast with such terrible scars. There weren’t too many, but there were several and they looked like when they were fresh they would have hurt, terribly. It made Ian’s face pull into a sad, pained expression, wishing he knew what had happened, but also knew he absolutely didn’t want to ask no matter how much he wondered. Whatever it was had obviously been traumatic and not something you’d want to speak to someone about only having known them for two days. He’d just have to pretend that he hadn’t noticed at all, as much as it honestly hurt him to do, slowly sliding back up against the other man’s skin, their heat weaving back together and Ian dipped his head again. 

Mickey didn’t deserve it, no matter what the circumstances were and he just wished he could tell him that, show him that, express how special he was, at least to Ian. He shifted closer, his legs bending more to fit Mickey’s better, one moving to rest just slightly over his thigh, then found his hand as he wrapped his arm back around him and squeezed it gently. The redhead wanted to hold him, feel him, make him feel good in whatever way he could, wanting to bury whatever unknown taunts and terrors the man may have lurking in the back of his mind even if he didn’t exactly know what they may be. He wanted to show him that he mattered, to him. 

His arm squeezed around Mickey’s body a bit tighter, inhaling into his neck once more and gently rubbed his fingers through the other man’s grasp, gently urging him to wake. But he didn’t really move, didn’t react, hardly shifting or making any noise as his slow, heavy breaths of sleep filled the back of the van. Ian smiled lightly, then slid his hand up Mickey’s arm to his elbow and over onto his abs, moving up his chest to rub his palm over the man’s heartbeat, the rhythm pulsing through his fingertips. The drum from Mickey’s heart, seemed to make his own beat louder and he pushed his body even closer, feeling a rush of blood flow down into his pelvis causing him to roll his hips a bit, a need and an urge arising. 

He felt himself growing hard fairly quickly and his breath started to turn heavy as he ran his hand back down Mickey’s chest, over his forearm and laced his fingers together with his, gently rolling his hips again. Then Ian lifted his head and placed a small, soft kiss on the back of the other man’s neck, the tip of his nose brushing back along his hairline, earning him a small hum and a shift in return. The redhead curled his fingers over Mickey’s hand and felt him grip back, before shifting again, pressing himself further into Ian’s chest, just barely awake enough to register his movements. 

Then Ian kissed him again, once in the same spot before moving over just a bit to place another behind his ear which pushed another light, breathy hum through the other man’s nose, their hands gripping a bit tighter. The redhead rocked his hips, pushing the long, hard length of his cock into Mickey’s backside, the only thing separating them being their boxer briefs, rippling their heat together through the fabric. 

Ian wasn’t sure if Mickey was a top, a bottom or somewhere in between, but the other man didn’t seem to be turning down his gesture in the slightest, pressing his ass back into him and arching his back a bit, beginning to follow Ian’s slow, steady movements and breathing more heavily as he did. The redhead opened his mouth a bit wider and began to gently suck a tender purple mark into the side of Mickey’s neck, the other man turning his head outward a bit to give him more room to speckle with kisses, moaning softly under his breath as Ian rolled his hips back into him. 

Mickey then released Ian’s hand and reached back to grasp the back of his head, enjoying the way the man behind him continued to suck tiny purpling marks into his flesh and covered each one with a kiss, causing him to curl his fingers more tightly into his scalp. Ian slid his hand back over Mickey’s chest, rubbing a thumb over a single nipple, then caressed the muscle underneath, before sliding it back down over his abs, unable to stop touching him everywhere he could. 

Mickey’s eyes were still closed, having yet to open at all, his eyebrows knitted together tightly and more soft, quiet moans began spilling from his lips, each one pushed out by an eager, breathy sigh. And Ian just loved every single noise that came out of him, rocking himself back into Mickey, feeling his cock slide through the heat between the thick, round muscles of his ass, moaning lightly from the sensation as well. The dark haired man rocked his hips back, even raised one of his knees just a bit to grind back into him a bit harder, urging him on as his fingertips gripped Ian’s hair a little more firmly. 

The redhead hummed through his nose as he placed another kiss over another hickey, then tipped his face up to run the tip of his tongue along the edge of Mickey’s ear, teasing the piercing within it. The dark haired man swallowed a groan from the gesture, then bit his lip, pushing his ass back into the man behind him. Ian began to rock his hips in a gentle, steady motion, the friction between them weighing on their breaths a bit more and he slid his hand down further to rub his hand over the thick hard cock between Mickey’s legs. 

The dark haired man moaned a bit louder when he grasped him, even if it was still from outside his clothes and pushed his cock into Ian’s palm before shifting his ass back to press into the other man’s body, getting very worked up rather quickly and seemed to only want more. Ian rolled his hips into him once more, falling into a slow, steady motion, pressing the hard length of his cock into Mickey’s ass who was breathing quite heavily and softly moaning under his breath from each and every one. The redhead gripped his cock a bit firmer as he slowly stroked him just a bit, then smoothed a palm further down to grasp and massage Mickey’s balls, earning him another soft, breathy moan in return. Ian’s skin began to tingle as he held Mickey close with his other arm that was wrapped around his waist, then slid his hand back over the other man’s hardened girth, up to the waistband of his boxer briefs, tickling a single fingertip along it’s edge. 

He arched his neck a bit to suck on Mickey’s earlobe as his hand began lightly tugging at the material that covered him, teasing the other man a bit, just before he started to reach inside, when his mind was suddenly pulled from it’s lusty morning haze by a loud, persistent beeping that erupted from his wrist. His eyes opened wide with a sudden nervous realization of why his watch was suddenly blaring through the early quiet and drew back his hand to check it, bumped it’s button with his chin to stop the alarm, then sighed very heavily. 

“Shit,” Ian breathed, then scrunched up his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. The man still laying in his arms now finally opened his eyes, blinking sleepily with his brows knitted together as he turned his head with a squint to look at the redhead behind him. 

“The fuck is that?” asked Mickey with a sleepy groan still lacing his voice, then reached a hand down to grasp his cock with a bit of discomfort, perhaps trying to ease his erection back down and readjusted his boxers a bit. 

“My alarm,” Ian replied simply, purposely staying as vague as he could, then very carefully moved his arm out from under Mickey’s side, ran a palm over his face and moved to sit up. The dark haired man chuckled a bit, then rolled onto his back to look at him better. 

“Well, no fuckin' shit,” he said in a very sarcastically obvious tone, then rubbed his eyes with a single hand and scratched his chest, “Alarm for what?” Mickey queried, his tone a bit confused, but not at all demanding, just seemingly curious. The redhead combed his fingers through his hair, took another small breath, then reached to grab his backpack and pull it into his lap. 

“For my, uh, medicine,” Ian answered quietly, avoiding the other man’s eyes, hoping the nerves and embarrassment that he suddenly felt wasn’t reeking from his pores. The dark haired man was stretching his back when Ian spoke, then paused at the response, creasing his brow a bit and folded his arms back behind his head. 

“Medicine?” Mickey repeated with the same hint of confusion, then cocked his head some, “You like, fuckin' sick or somethin'?” he asked a bit further, not sounding at all judgemental, still just curious and wanting to understand. Ian pulled two bottles of medication from the bottom on his pack, placing one pill from each in his palm, then closed them to tuck back away. 

“No,” said Ian as he zipped his pack closed then flashed Mickey half a glance from over his shoulder, “Not exactly,” he said. 

The other man held the crease in his brow, watching him as he placed his backpack back into it’s previous spot, then turned his body a bit to finally meet his eyes. Blue flickered between green for just a moment before the man laying down arched an eyebrow and offered a small smirk.

“Well, in case ya forgot,” said Mickey, “I did kinda have your cock down my fuckin' throat last night,” he informed him, his smirk not yet fading, his expression staying honest and leveled, calm, then tipped his chin up toward him, “So if you’re fuckin' sick or somethin', that’s some shit I’d kinda like to fuckin' know about,” Mickey stated very simply, not looking at all upset by the notion, but still quite serious despite his friendly demeanor. 

Ian looked him over as he calmly awaited the redhead’s response, and his nerves seemed to calm a bit too when he realized that Mickey wasn’t angry, and still not judging him for it either. He knew the man deserved to know, but it just wasn’t a conversation he was prepared to have just yet. So, instead he just tried to offer some reassurance, as best he could. 

“It’s not like that,” Ian assured, “Nothing contagious,” he added, then combed his fingers back through his hair before reaching to rub the back of his neck, “It’s kinda complicated to explain though,” said Ian, his voice becoming a bit shy and quiet again. 

Mickey wiggled the tip of his tongue over his lip ring, then sucked his lower lip into his mouth as he eyed him for a moment, not exactly looking skeptical, but as if he was very seriously considering Ian’s words and thinking them over. But he still didn’t really look too concerned either, making Ian hope that perhaps he’d earned enough trust with the man in the short time they’d known each other that he would believe him, take his word and not instantly assume that he was lying or trying to cover something up. Then his hope for such began to swell, and relief began to fill his chest as he saw Mickey very slowly begin to nod, just before he moved to sit up.

The redhead watched as Mickey turned toward the front of the van, moved onto his knees, then reached through the curtain into the sunlight. When he pulled his arm back, his hand held a large, gallon jug of water and turned back to pass it over to Ian. He was surprised by the action, but took it without question nonetheless, reaching over to grasp it from him, then set it down in his lap. Mickey flashed him a glance, then dropped his eyes to the water and made a gesture with his brow. 

“That shit should help,” said Mickey. 

Ian kept his eyes on him, still trying to read his expression, but it still hadn’t changed, appearing just as content and unbothered around Ian as he normally did, seemingly trusting his words. The redhead tapped his fingers against the bottle, then tipped his chin. 

“Thanks,” said Ian and the other man simply gave a nod. 

The redhead twisted the cap and opened the jug, just before tossing his pills back with a tip of his head, then took a long swallow of water to wash them down, Mickey quietly watching as he did. He then lowered the bottle, replaced the cap and passed it back over. The dark haired man took it, then set it down beside them, flashing Ian a small glance and shook his hair out, bringing a palm up to rub through thick, dark strands of pitch, before he shifted a bit and began reaching over to fish through some clean clothes without another word. 

Ian dropped his eyes, then reached for his jeans, beginning to slip them onto his legs, wondering if perhaps having to take his medication had put the other man off, even though he hadn’t said anything else about it. He even had half a mind to offer the man some space and head back out to his own tent, giving him the choice to decide if he still wanted to be involved with Ian, now knowing that he had some mystery illness. His heart twinged with a bit of sadness at the thought, even though it wouldn’t be the first time that someone had chosen against having anything else to do with him after finding out, even after trying to explain his particular situation or no matter how under control he had it. 

Though, on the off chance that the other man wasn't immediately displaced by this new knowledge, Ian would of course try to explain it all to him and answer whatever questions he had. But he was also much too nervous to do it right now, needing a bit more time to think about what exactly he would want to say, because even though they hadn’t known each other long, Mickey wasn’t just anyone to him. He was someone that was special. Ian would be genuinely hurt if the dark haired man truly ended up rejecting him for it, but he tried not to let it bother him too much while still sitting right next to him. He stayed quiet as he reached for his shirt and slipped his arms inside, ready to pull it over his head, when Mickey suddenly spoke and took him a bit by surprise. 

“So, do ya gotta like fuckin' eat with those?” he asked, causing Ian to crease his brow just a bit and turn around to look at his face, slightly shocked that the other man would ask so casually, having assumed the subject would make Mickey now feel uncomfortable around him. But he tried not to let it show, seeing how very normal and calm the other man still appeared and tried to answer just as casually. 

“Uh, yeah,” said Ian, “I probably should,” he added as he pulled his t-shirt over his head, then smoothed out the fabric along his chest, assuming perhaps this was Mickey’s way of getting rid of him, but he suddenly surprised again. 

“You wanna go get some fuckin' breakfast then?” queried Mickey, with a slight arch of his eyebrow, dropping his eyes for just a moment to adjust his belt on a black pair of short pants, then looked back up and tilted his head, “I know I could fuckin' eat,” he said with a grin. 

Ian blinked and his lips parted with speechlessness. Mickey wasn’t trying to get rid of him, wasn’t suddenly going to avoid him like he had the plague and he almost just couldn’t believe it, fully expecting that to be the case, like it normally always was with everyone else. Really any other time that Ian had begun to get comfortable with someone, everything always seemed to change the moment they saw Ian take his pills in the morning, even if they’d already talked about his diagnosis. And here sat Mickey who still didn’t know any specifics, hadn’t yet pushed for any, but still looked into his eyes with the very same soft, admiring gaze that he always did, like nothing had changed at all. Ian couldn’t stop the small smile that began tugging at the corners of his mouth as he blinked again, and exhaled lightly with a bit of relief and happiness, feeling so incredibly amazed by the other man’s understanding and acceptance that he swore his heart suddenly skipped ten beats. 

“Yeah,” he grinned back, the lightness in his chest making the flutters float up into his throat, “Definitely,” said Ian, his entire body relaxing as he looked into the other man’s eyes. Mickey rolled his tongue beneath his lip, gave him a small sweeping glance and gave a single nod before pulling a shirt on over his head. 

Both men finished dressing, slipped on their shoes and gathered what they needed for the day, Ian with his backpack and Mickey removing a few things from his own, pushing them down into his pockets, then attached his wallet to a long, thick, silver chain that hung low and tucked the little patch of leather into his back pocket. The dark haired man swung open one of the back doors to emerge and each cussed under their breath at how bright the fucking sun was, hearing each other, then sharing a chuckle before scrunching up their faces and climbing outside. When Mickey locked up his van and they began weaving their way through all the other vehicles to get back to the trail, he met Ian’s eyes, offered a small smirk, then raised an eyebrow. 

“Whatcha think a hittin' Vick and Agnes back up?” asked Mickey, “You like their shit yesterday?” he queried. The redhead gave a nod, his stomach beginning to grumble at the memory of thick cut bacon and met his eyes. 

“Fuck yeah,” Ian replied with surety, “It was delicious,” he complimented, then tipped his head with a push of his lip, “And free, which is pretty awesome too,” he said. The other man smiled at the response, then looked back forward as they entered the trail to cross through. 

“Good,” said Mickey, “Cause I did fuckin' tell 'em I’d be back through,” he stated, as if he were reminding himself, not Ian, then caught the redhead’s gaze once more, “And I’m a man a my fuckin' word,” Mickey smirked. Ian smiled again and tilted his head. 

“Well, I think that’s a great quality to have,” he said in a very admiring tone and the other man smiled a bit, “They seem nice anyway too,” Ian noted honestly and Mickey nodded in agreement.

“They’re good fuckin' people, man,” said Mickey shrugging a shoulder, then arched his brow looking back down the trail, “Way fuckin' better than a lotta motherfuckers in the world,” he added. 

Ian traced over his expression and took in his words, hearing how highly he spoke of these people, also remembering that when he’d asked Mickey if they were family, he’d replied 'Somethin' like that,' now beginning to wonder more about them. He was intrigued seeing how important they seemed to the man and really wanted to know more simply because of that. Ian hoped it wouldn’t be too personal to ask, but he was curious and hoped that if he did ask more, the other man wouldn’t take offense. He walked a bit closer to him as they squeezed through a tighter knot of bodies within the trail and let his eyes fall back over his face. 

“You’ve known them a pretty long time, huh?” Ian wondered aloud, watching Mickey’s expression, though it didn’t change in the slightest. 

“About six fuckin' years,” Mickey confirmed without any hesitation, “Since my first fuckin' year up here,” he said, then chuckled a bit, as if recalling a memory and paused a moment before meeting Ian’s eyes again with amusement painting his face and upturned a palm as the redhead smiled back at him.

“So, I was sixteen my first fuckin' year, right?” he began, “And uh, well I’ve been fuckin' drinkin' since I was like twelve, so I got a pretty high fuckin' tolerance,” Mickey explained, and Ian listened, completely and totally interested in the other man’s story, watching as he chuckled again and continued, “But comin' up here, seeing all the fuckin' free booze everywhere and no one gives a fuck how old ya are really… I uh, kinda really fuckin' overdid it,” he said, then met Ian’s eyes again and gave a loose wave of his hand, “Young and fuckin' stupid shit, ya know?” he raised his brows again and Ian nodded, knowing full well what that was like from personal experience, nodding as he listened more, 

“I was just fuckin' trashed, man,” said Mickey, his voice drenched with a thick emphasis, “Stumblin' the fuck around, fallin' down, pukin' my fuckin' guts up,” he elaborated, “Eventually I end up on the edge a the fuckin' woods and passed the fuck out. Don’t remember shit after hittin' the fuckin' ground,” said Mickey. 

Ian creased his brow and parted his lips, the memory the other man was describing all too familiar to him, staying quiet with intrigue. The dark haired man then scratched the bridge of his nose with the back of his thumb and upturned his palm again. 

“So, uh Vick takes these walks through the woods at night,” Mickey explained as they reached the other end of the trail and walked into the open field, “And I guess he fuckin’ found my dumbass knocked out, covered in fuckin' puke on his walk back to his tent,” he said, “So old dude Vick swung my ass up over his shoulder and brought me back with him to Agnes,” Mickey continued with an impressed expression on his face that Ian mirrored, remembering the thin, aged man he’d met yesterday and tried to imagine someone of his frame attempting and actually succeeding in doing such a thing, “Felt fuckin' sorry for me or some shit, I guess,” he shrugged a shoulder. Then the other man’s expression turned very grateful, thoughtful, as he thumbed his lip ring and spoke again. 

“He and Agnes took turns fuckin' watchin' me all night. Makin' sure I didn’t fuckin' choke on my own puke,” Mickey informed him, nodding slowly as he spoke, then looked into Ian’s eyes with a definite tone, “They didn’t have to fuckin' do that shit, ya know?” he said and the redhead nodded again as the other man looked back ahead, then scoffed lightly. 

“I wake up in their fuckin' tent the next mornin' and Vick's right fuckin' there,” said Mickey, then creased his brow a bit to change his voice some, “'You coulda fuckin' died, boy. You know that?'" he impersonated Vick's deep, hollow voice that had just a hint of a bayou accent, “'The fuck were ya thinkin', kid?'" Mickey continued a bit, then chuckled again, “And ya know, bein' young and fuckin' stupid,” he repeated in a mildly regretful, but amused tone, “I tell him to fuck off before I take his fuckin' hospitality and shove it up his ass,” said Mickey and Ian’s jaw dropped open as he shot out a laugh, the other man nodding, then pulled his lip down into an apologetic expression, raising and dropping his palms with a shrug, shaking his head at himself a bit. He then let out an exhale and pointed with his thumb. 

“Ran the fuck outta there,” Mickey finalized, then shrugged some more, “Least Vick didn’t hold the shit against me forever,” he said, “And I did fuckin' apologize eventually,” he added with a pointed brow. The redhead chuckled a bit and tipped his chin. 

“How do you even get past that to apologize?” asked Ian, “He find you fucking unconscious again somewhere?” he cracked, earning him a laugh and a middle finger. 

“Nah,” said Mickey with a head shake, “But he has helped me out way fuckin' more than that. Both of 'em,” he assured as they turned to stroll down the aisle toward the older couple’s tent space, the scents of spices and herbs wafting over them from just beyond the next few booths, “Just had kind of a rough fuckin' introduction,” chuckled Mickey.

The other man nodded a final time, then looked ahead as well, now having a bit more understanding of why Mickey seemed so friendly and comfortable with them, genuinely comfortable, which didn’t seem to happen often in anything more than a professional way with other people. Well, besides Ian of course. He also felt quite grateful himself now, happy that the other man would be willing to share more personal things with him, now intent on working up the courage to do the same. 

He began trying to think of something he could share, anything personal, but still fairly mind so he could eventually work his way up other inevitable conversations like the one he’d nearly been confronted with earlier upon his watch going off. But his train of thought was suddenly interrupted by the raspy yet joyful cackle of an older woman’s laugh and Ian looked up from his focus to see a brightly faced Agnes smiling over at them. She put one hand one her hip as she peered down at them from behind her counter, then pointed her big, metal spatula between them with the other. 

“You two stay together all this time?” asked Agnes as if she seemed surprised. 

Ian creased his brow a bit and looked to the man beside him as they approached her, whose expression changed at the greeting, but only a bit, not looking upset but perhaps a little embarrassed as his eyes widened a bit, his brow raised up and he pressed his lips together. But when he turned his sight to meet Ian’s he didn’t appear to look ashamed, not at all like he was hiding, giving him a very openly appealing glance, then looked back at the older woman with a face that said, 'Pretty much.' The redhead smiled again, but tried not to do it too widely, hiding the faintest hint of a blush on his cheeks as he looked back up and met the woman’s eyes as well. She pushed out her lip, looking Ian over a bit herself before nodding, then looked back at Mickey. 

“I’m impressed Mickey,” admitted Agnes, then flashed Ian another glance and winked at him, “You must really like this one,” she said.

Ian smiled again, then looked at his companion with a surprised expression of his own, seeing the man beside him run a palm down his face and exhale. He pressed his lips together and gave the grinning older woman a very mild glare that Ian couldn’t help but be amused by. 

“Good mornin', Agy,” Mickey greeted slowly with a clear emphasis that he was changing the subject, then offered a smile as he tipped his chin up toward her, “How are ya?” he asked. Agnes returned his smile and pushed out her lip, glancing down in front of her for a second to mix something around atop her skillet. 

“Pretty good,” she replied with a hum in her voice, then glanced back up at both young men with a very sly gaze, “Not as good as you two though, I’m sure,” Agnes added noticing the small red marks and soft, purpling hickies on both of their necks, as they grabbed their plates to be served. 

Ian couldn’t help but blush a bit under the woman’s gaze, however Mickey simply scoffed over a smile, shaking his head at her comment with a lightly humored demeanor, not looking even the slightest bit ashamed, then met her eyes for just an instant before leaning up to peer over the counter.

“Whatcha got up here today?” queried Mickey, completely ignoring what she’d just said.

Ian tilted up onto his toes a bit as well, taking a long slow inhale he eyed a large pan of scrambled hash in front of Agnes that appeared to be mostly eggs, tomatoes, mushrooms, something green and what looked to be some type of sausage. His stomach gave another grumble of approval, more than ready to eat as he watched the woman stirring it up again with a scrape of her spatula. 

“Little bit of everything,” the old woman replied with a purse of her lips, then raised her gaze back onto the two men in front of her, “Worked up an appetite, did ya boys?” she teased with another wink and Mickey rolled his eyes. 

“Can we please just get somethin' to fuckin' eat, Agy?” he asked back with insistence, finally breaking just a bit, his tone still very light, but clearly still a warning and the woman simply conceded with a giggle and a nod before gathering a large scoop of hash to put on his plate. 

“Sure, sure,” said Agnes, “I’m only fucking teasin' ya, kid,” she assured with a smile.

Mickey pressed his lips together as he pulled back his newly filled plate and Ian just tried to hide a rather amused grin. The dark haired man offered her a small smile, then flashed Ian a glance and a smile that was a bit softer before taking a step aside for Ian to get his food. The woman smiled down at him in much the same way she seemed to do with Mickey and placed a large scoop of hash onto his plate as well, to which he offered a small expression of thanks in return. Agnes mirrored it, before she turned her face back to the man beside him. 

“Did ya like Vick's gift?” she queried with an arch of her graying eyebrow, and Mickey smiled a bit wider with a nod. 

“Shit smells fuckin' great,” he replied genuinely, then offered an innocent shrug, “Haven’t quite fuckin' opened it yet though,” confessed Mickey, then very openly gazed back over at Ian, letting his eyes linger on his face and trail down over his body before locking eyes with him once more, “Been kinda fuckin' busy since I got it,” he added. 

Ian smiled at the comment, especially from seeing how open the other man seemed to be in his liking for him, feeling quite special under his bright blue gaze all over again, unable to stop the shimmering green of his own from brightening as he gazed right back. Mickey sucked in his lip before he finally looked away, then blinked and creased his brow as if he suddenly remembered what he’d been replying to. 

“I’m sure it’s fuckin' awesome though,” he assured with a confident tone, “Vick's shit always is,” Mickey smirked. The older woman returned his expression and gave a nod. 

“Very true,” agreed Agnes then cocked her head, long gray braids falling over her shoulder, “That batch is kinda special though,” she explained, then gestured down the way to where Vick was normally posted near the other end of the space, “He was cooped up in the greenhouse with it for months,” informed Agnes, causing the young man to raise his eyebrows and push his lip out a bit. 

“No shit?” Mickey asked back with very impressed expression, then shot a glance in the same direction, catching just a glimpse of the old man’s back as he rounded their tent toward the quick pitched pig pen they’d seen yesterday, then looked back up at Agnes, “I won’t leave him hangin', Agy,” he promised. 

“Good. You better not,” Agnes warned, then looked at Mickey quite thoughtfully with a small smile pressed into her lips, “He was really excited to share it with you,” she said. The dark haired man gave a chuckle and chin nod, then took a step back. 

“I won’t,” Mickey finalized again with another easy smile, then looked over at Ian and flicked his head down toward Vick, who easily followed with a parting nod toward Agnes. 

The redhead was a bit confused by their conversation, though he remembered seeing Mickey receive some sort of package from Vick yesterday morning. And though he hadn’t focused on it much at the time, he remembered the rather potent, earthy smell that came from it as Mickey zipped it into his backpack, already having a pretty good idea of what it was, so he didn’t bother to ask. 

They strode a few short paces down to the other end of their serving space, seeing the pan and pot that previously held beans and peppered bacon the day before were now cold, empty and sitting atop extinguished piles of ash. Ian creased his brow a bit as they got closer, recognizing the smell of wood burning from somewhere nearby, along with a salty, metallic scent lingering among the smoke. Both he and Mickey slowed as they peered farther back behind the counter area to see Vick with his back turned, tossing the wood that was a fence just yesterday into a large pile of flaming coals, shooting embers up into the air as each one crashed down into it. For a moment, Ian wondered what happened to Sally, the large spotted hog he’d seen sleeping back here before, until he suddenly noticed her pale, lifeless carcass strung up from the branch of a nearby tree, gutted, drained and ready to be roasted. 'Oh,' he thought, 'There she is.'

They watched the older man begin screwing together the ends of a large metal spit, ready to position it over the fire when Mickey lightly cleared his throat, pausing his movements and causing him to turn. Vick adjusted his glasses and just like before, split a big, toothy grin. 

“Well, you’re up pretty damn early,” Vick observed, then tipped his head, “Didn’t think you’d be comin' back around 'til Friday when Sally got done cookin',” he added, gesturing to the hog and spit behind him. Mickey scoffed lightly and arched an insistent eyebrow. 

“Told ya I’d be back through,” Mickey pointed out, “Just didn’t fuckin' say when,” he grinned, earning him a chuckle from the older man behind the counter, who then took a few steps closer to converse with him properly. 

“Well, it’s always good to see ya, kid,” said Vick, then split a smirk and arched an eyebrow of his own, “You get a chance to sample that crop yet?” he queried and the younger man tipped his chin. 

“'Bout to in a bit here,” Mickey replied, then pointed to his plate, shooting Ian a small glance as he did, who still stood quietly in wait, not at all minding that the other man had stopped to talk, “Just gotta fuckin' eat first,” he said. Vick smiled wider, seemingly quite satisfied with that response and gave a quick, gleeful nod. 

“Well go on then,” he shooed with a swat of his hand, “Go eat, then go smoke,” Vick directed, “You’re gonna love it,” he insisted, then smiled a bit more, “Then come back and thank me for it, eh?,” said Vick arching a sly brow, causing the dark haired man to rumble up a laugh. 

“I’m on it, man,” replied Mickey, then tipped his head toward the large slab of raw meat that still hung from a tree, “And roast her up fuckin' good,” he said.

Vick mirrored his expression, then gave a wave before turning back around and the two young men finally departed to dig into their food with an eager, hasty hunger. Ian took a few large bites, chewing as they wandered away, then cocked his head toward the way they’d come. 

“They seem pretty insistent about that gift,” Ian noted, “Must be fucking important,” he said. Mickey chewed on a mouthful of hash and swallowed with a chuckle and a shrug. 

“They just like givin' fuckin' gifts, man,” explained Mickey, then thumbed his lip and shrugged again, “And Vick's kinda like a fuckin' horticulture enthusiast,” he added, “So, he just gets real fuckin' excited about the shit sometimes.” The redhead took another bite and raised an eyebrow. 

“Horticulture enthusiast?” Ian repeated through a muffle of food, then swallowed, “Like fucking plants and shit?” he queried with a deep, confused crease pressing into his forehead and the other man chuckled again. 

“Yeah, like fuckin' plants,” confirmed Mickey, then upturned a palm to elaborate a bit, “On their farm, Agnes usually tends to the fuckin' animals. Vick's thing is the garden,” he said, “Fuckin' loves the shit,” Mickey added, “Somethin' about nurturing the fuckin' plant from a seed and watchin' 'til it blooms into somethin' fuckin' beautiful,” he said with a slight crease in his brow and Ian just listened, still so incredibly intrigued with anything and everything Mickey was willing to share with him, wanting to learn it all. He took another bite and began to chew as he continued to listen with a growing amount of interest, watching his face as he spoke. 

“Vick gave me a whole fuckin' speech about it one time,” Mickey said with a wave of his hand, then met Ian’s eyes, seeing how surprisingly interested he seemed to be in what he was saying and continued. 

“Anyway, uh, he and Agnes are really big fuckin' potheads too, right?” Mickey revealed with a smirk and Ian laughed at the sudden change in his story's flow, tipping his head back and covered his mouthful of food. Mickey laughed as well and upturned another palm. 

“I know,” Mickey grinned, “Old ass hippie couple who lived their prime in the fuckin' sixties. Who woulda fuckin' guessed?” he said quite sarcastically, Ian nodding with agreement as he calmed a bit and finished his bite. 

“And before I left Chicago, my other brother Colin, used to have a whole fuckin' grow operation in the basement. I used to fuckin' help him with the shit sometimes,” Mickey elaborated, causing the redhead to raise his eyebrows with a bit of surprise, that the other man seemed to catch and smirked at a bit.

“Colin was real fuckin' into the shit too. Actually took the fuckin' time to like read and learn about the shit, which if you knew Colin, you’d know that’s fuckin' unusual for him, well any a my brothers really,” he laughed a bit, “But uh, he taught me a bunch a shit about enhancing the plants, how to cross breed 'em. All kinds a cool shit,” said Mickey. 

“So, when I got to fuckin' know Vick and found out he grows bud too, I offered to teach him all the shit my brother showed me,” Mickey said and Ian nodded at his words. 

He now understood the older man’s guarded demeanor toward his presence yesterday morning when Mickey had queried about his package. Vick is apparently quite the gardener and not exactly a legitimate one, but Ian honestly didn’t mind in the slightest, finding the new knowledge quite cool and interesting, just like everything else Mickey was sharing with him. Besides, Ian wasn’t a rat. He held his sight on the man next him, still captivated by every word. 

“Ever since, it’s like he’s been on a fuckin' mission to grow the best crop,” he chuckled, then met Ian’s eyes, “And apparently Vick thinks he finally fuckin' did it,” said Mickey, then tilted his head toward Ian a bit, “So, that’s probably what he fuckin' gave me,” he said, then took a bite of hash. The redhead nodded again in approval and raised his eyebrows. 

“Sounds like an awesome fucking gift,” said Ian with surety and the dark haired man chuckled again, mirroring his nod. 

“I’m sure it fuckin' is,” agreed Mickey, then took another large bite and gestured to both their plates, “Which is why we gotta hurry up and fuckin' eat so we can go test the shit out,” he informed him, then met his eyes once more, “I know I ain’t smokin' alone,” he said. 

“Fuck no,” Ian replied with a headshake, “You’re sharing that shit,” he directed, earning him another laugh from Mickey, watching as he tipped his head back a bit with humor, then calmed and looked into his eyes. 

“Well, I got fuckin' plenty, man,” Mickey replied, then drew his eyebrows together some, “That thing was couple a fuckin' pounds at least,” he said, his voice laced with excitement. Ian’s eyes widened at his words and his jaw dropped a bit. 

“Why so much?” Ian queried in shock, but the other man just gave a light shrug. 

“That’s just fuckin' Vick, man,” he said. 

The redhead blinked and titled his head, 'Wow,' he thought, then turned his face down toward his food. Mickey continued to clear his plate, as well as Ian, enjoying it, but eating quickly as they walked together down the footpath, which was quickly thickening with a stronger flow of bodies. When they threw their trash away and began to split another cigarette they fell back into light conversation, gradually making their way back toward the pathway to make a stop back at Mickey’s van and retrieve his present from Vick, Ian suddenly felt the same uncomfortably familiar twist inside his stomach and his brow prickled with annoyance as his eyes moved around. 

Several yards away, standing beside another young man, immersed in a conversation with a small surrounding group of other people was the very same long haired, blonde man that he really just wanted to go one single day up here without seeing. Jason had looked away from the gathering he’d been conversing with, one arm around the shoulders of the slightly shorter man at his side and stared directly through all the other bodies around them right into Ian’s face. The redhead felt a heat rise behind his eyes but tried his best to snuff it out with a hard scoff through his nose, finding it absolutely pathetic that the other man would still even bother looking his way, not only after seeing him with Mickey, but Jason very obviously had a companion of his own. The blonde across the way began to smirk a bit, looking as though he were hoping to make Ian jealous, but instead he simply scoffed again and rolled his eyes, causing Mickey to turn his face and meet his gaze. 

“The fuck’s your problem?” asked Mickey, his eyebrow arching sharply in question. The other man let out a heavy exhale, rolled his eyes once more, then gave a pointed flick of his head. 

“Just the same bullshit,” Ian replied, causing Mickey to crease his brow, then follow his gesture with his eyes. 

When his sight landed on Jason, it immediately hardened into a cold dark glare, causing the other man’s expression to flicker a bit, not appearing quite so smug anymore, but he didn’t look away either. Mickey sucked his teeth, cocked his head, then looked back at the redhead beside him.

“Imma end up clockin' that motherfucker if he don’t fuck off real fuckin' soon,” Mickey warned in a very sure and definite tone, “I can already feel it fuckin' comin', man,” he added opening and closing his fists a few times before shaking them both out. Ian looked away from his ex, now ignoring the irritating creep of the other man’s eyes on him and kept his pace next to Mickey as he gave a shrug. 

“I told you,” said Ian, “Asshole just can’t take a fucking hint,” he reminded him, “Ignore and avoid,” Ian stated flatly, “It’s the only thing that’ll fucking work,” he said. Then it was Mickey who scoffed quite thickly and gave a shake of his head. 

“Not exactly my fuckin' style, man,” he countered, then arched his brow, bearing the same solid, confident tone of voice, “If that ponytail wearin' son of a bitch gives me a single fuckin' reason to,” Mickey threatened raising his index finger, “I'm bustin' his fuckin' lights out,” he said, then squeezed his same hand into a tough, round grip, “A fuckin' fist always translates best, I’m tellin' ya,” Mickey assured. 

Ian suddenly began to smile once more, the twist in his guts releasing it’s knot and he felt his chest fill with a strange, warm swell. Not only did he feel almost flattered that the other man would take his ex boyfriend creeping around them so seriously, but quite touched that even though Mickey knew nothing about his past relationship with the man, he seemed to care enough to notice how much it really bothered Ian and wanted to put a stop to it.

Not to mention, Jason really did deserve it in Ian’s eyes, even though he could never bring himself to actually beat some sense into him himself, really not wanting to be that impulsive person anymore who was fueled solely by their emotions. But it’d be different having the pleasure of seeing Mickey do it, quite shamelessly admitting silently to himself how much deep satisfaction the sight would bring him. 

Though the redhead was also a bit curious why exactly his new companion seemed to care so much, why he spoke so passionately about assaulting the blonde man, even though he’d done him no wrong personally, wondering if perhaps he was already beginning to care even more for Ian than he thought. He snorted a bit at the other man’s words and laughed lightly, before creasing his brow curiously, then took a chance with a comment. 

“Quite a bit of animosity toward a guy you don’t know,” Ian noted with a chuckle in his voice as they began to walk among the flow that ran down one side of the little wooded trail, “You really are harsh,” he smirked, his voice laced with compliment, not malice. The dark haired man flashed him a small glance, thumbed his lip with a small admitting shrug, then looked away a bit. 

“Just seems like a fuckin' asshole,” explained Mickey, “Not to mention that lurkin' around bullshit is just fuckin' creepy,” he added, then looked back into his face with an eyebrow raised, “You ain’t defendin' that shit?” he asked. The redhead instantly scrunched up his face with denial and shook his head. 

“Fuck no,” said Ian, then bore a very serious expression, “If anyone deserves a fucking ass whooping, it’s him,” he informed him boldly, causing the other man to raise his eyebrows once again. Then it was Ian who looked away some, “All he does is use people,” he said pushing his hands down into his pockets, peering in front of them toward the arch at the end of the trail. 

Mickey watched his face for a moment, the smooth light speckle of blue glimmering softly over his expression, as if he were really taking in those last few words and was trying to interpret their true meaning behind them. Then he looked away as well for a moment, appearing as if he wanted to ask further, but wasn’t sure how and Ian was curious if he actually would, becoming quite surprised when he saw Mickey turn his gaze back toward him and spoke almost hesitantly. 

“Was that what fucked shit up?” Mickey queried, his voice leveled but curious, “Took for granted what was right fuckin' in front of him?” he asked, his eyes moving back over his face in the same gentle way they had a moment ago, laced with a soft, admiring fondness that Ian’s breath seemed to slow under. 

He felt his heart pulse with a delicate wave of dancing flutters that began swarming into his throat as he saw the way the other man was looking at him, how open the gaze was, not at all trying to hide it. Ian understood now why Mickey seemed to get so instantly heated and defensive about his exboyfriend, because even though he’d only known the redhead a brief time, seemed to genuinely appreciate and enjoy him as a person, not at all wanting to think of someone mistreating him. Ian then wondered if it was similar to the emotion he’d felt when he’d caught a glimpse of Mickey’s back early this morning upon their waking, simply hating to think of anyone causing him such harm. The dark haired man seemed to feel for the redhead just as strongly as the redhead felt back and without words, they seemed to communicate their emotions with their eyes. Ian peered straight into them as he began to slowly nod, then blinked and shrugged a single shoulder. 

“I guess you could call it that,” he said, “If you really wanna know, I'll tell you sometime,” Ian offered, then tilted his head a bit, “But right now, I’d much rather just focus on hanging out with you,” he said with a small, honest smile. The other man returned his smile, then sucked his lip ring into his mouth as he let his eyes drop to trace over the redhead’s form before raising them back up to sparkle between Ian’s. 

“Don’t gotta fuckin' tell me twice,” Mickey assured, then began to guide them both left as the passed through the end of the trail into the other field and toward the grassy lot of vehicles, “This shit's gonna be some fuckin' fire, man,” he promised with excitement, referring once again to the brick of sweetly pungent bud they were about to test out, then arched a slick eyebrow, “Got another fuckin' spot I wanna show ya too,” Mickey revealed with a smirk, then let it spread into a grin, “It’s a good fuckin' thing you ain’t afraid a heights, man,” he said. Ian chuckled a bit and cocked his head just slightly. 

“Is it another cliff?” asked Ian, but the other man quickly shook his head. 

“Nah,” Mickey replied, “Not a cliff,” he denied smoothly, then cocked his own head, “Ya do still gotta fuckin' climb the shit though,” he said as both men began weaving through the other cars toward the blue, winged van far off in the corner beside the tree line. 

The redhead crinkled his brow with confusion, but didn’t question him further, trusting the other man in wherever he was going to bring him. He then followed the other man between a few more vehicles and approached Mickey’s van who unlocked it, before he swung open a single rear door to crawl inside.

Ian paused beside it, seeing the dark haired man grab his backpack out from the back of his sleeping area, then dug around through some personal items in the corner until he extracted a single brick shaped object wrapped in brown paper. He continued watching his motions as he fished through some more stuff within the space, found a large plastic bag and a shiny, black knife which had a thin, narrow blade that popped out from it’s handle when Mickey pressed his thumb into a little switch on it’s side. The redhead’s eyes widened at the unexpected weapon, then saw the dark haired man stick the tip inside the corner of the package and slid across a short end with a quick, papery swipe, cutting it open to unfold a bit. 

Mickey then closed his knife, set it down on the floor beside him, then just barely leaned in toward the greenery within before he closed his eyes, raised his eyebrows, and pulled his face back with a very impressed shake of his head, letting out a long, low whistle. Ian chuckled at the reaction as the other man met his eyes, then held it out toward him to take a whiff as well. 

“This shit fuckin' reeks,” Mickey complimented as the redhead leaned in for an inhale, then pulled his face back just as quickly as the other man had a second ago, then split a smirk, “Potent as fuck,” he breathed and Ian scrunched his face a bit, nodding in agreement. 

Mickey withdrew his hand, then began transferring a few large, sparkly green buds from the package into the bag he’d readied, then folded the end of the brick back up to tuck away amongst his other things. He added the bag to his pack, then moved around a bit on his knees to twist around and pull the straps onto his back, before crawling back toward Ian and re-emerging outside. He flashed the redhead another smirk as he reversed his previous motions, locking his van, replacing his key, then returning to Ian’s side with a rather eager look on his face. 

“Alright, man,” said Mickey, then tipped his head and gave a point, “We’re goin' that fuckin' way,” he informed him. 

Ian followed his point, twisting his body around to peer all the way across the field toward yet another tree line that Ian hadn’t walked through yet. Then he started getting excited, really excited, ready to explore further beyond, smiling widely as he turned his face back and met Mickey’s eyes again. 

“Lead the way then,” Ian offered with an outstretched arm and an upturned palm which the other man easily then smiled at, then moved to do just that. 

Together they crossed the field, passing through the shifts and flows of people as they began to thicken and the sun began to raise higher within the blue abyss of the sky, brightening the festival beneath it’s warm, golden glow. The pair weaved their way through a few tents as they approached the next tree line and Mickey turned his face back, flashing the redhead behind him a fresh, handsome expression, shooting him a small smile before looking back ahead to disappear into the thickness of the bush in front of them. Ian let the flutters dance up his throat and float around his cheeks, pulling his face into a smile as he made the last few steps toward the trees himself and hunched a bit to dip his head under a branch, walking in behind him. 

Almost immediately, the first thing Ian noticed was how much dimmer and thicker the forest was beyond this side of the field, with bunches of trunks and logs and wooden limbs all seemingly tangled together within a maze of flushing, luscious flora. There were other trees that stood out here and there with huge, massive trunks that grew up much taller than the rest, older, more worn with age and blanketed in patches of thick, green moss. He also saw logs speckled with mushrooms and branches woven with bright, colorful flowers, along with the occasional flash and flutter of a bird’s wings from somewhere higher up above and tried not to let his mind boggle too much at the beauty of it all. It was like being in an entirely different world, nothing like he’d ever seen and he was just amazed. 

As they passed through the woods, both men had to grasp at branches while stepping over others and dip their heads quite a few times to avoid smacking them against some random mass of bark, before they got to an area that was just a little easier to walk through. These trees were more of the big ones, with very few low branches and wide, round trucks, the paths of earth between them still narrow and twisted, lined with roots and rocks. Ian let his eyes move over each potential foot path, searching for the simplest route to move deeper when the dark haired man suddenly shot him another glance, gave a flick of his head, then moved to his left to lead him again. Once again, the redhead followed without any protest. 

Mickey didn’t bring him far before finally turning onto a small path between the trees that was clearly a bit wider and more stable than the others they’d seen, flashing him small glances and smiles as they went. Ian smiled back, the light, airy feeling in his chest making his body float with each step he took, completely content and happy with the way the morning was turning out so far. He’d been worried that their awkward awakening would have put a dampen on things, still having not known each other for very long, no matter how much time they’d spent together over the last few days. But he was beyond grateful to discover that wasn’t the case at all and Mickey didn’t look at him any differently, at least it didn’t seem like he did. Ian took a deep, smooth breath and let out an exhale as he kept close behind the other man continuing to step through more lengths of grass and wedges of stone before they both slowed behind a large, reddish tree trunk. The redhead paused as the other man met his eyes once more, then gestured to it, taking a few more steps around to the other side. 

“You ever fuckin' climb trees when you were a kid?” asked Mickey as the other man rounded the trunk behind him. Ian grasped onto the bark as he moved, careful not to lose his footing atop it's roots and gave a sure but simple nod. 

“Plenty,” replied Ian. Mickey smiled as his body paused again behind a single thick branch that grew out from the tree at about the level of his hips, then turned back around to watch the other man approach his space. 

“Ever climb any a the real fuckin' big ones?” he queried further, leaning back a bit to rest his body against the branch beside him and pointed upward with a single index finger. 

The redhead tilted his head up to peer through the large collection of branches lining and circling each and every side of the tree, not quite being able to make out where the top was, then looked back at Mickey with a grin. 

“Never this big,” he admitted with half a headshake and took another glance back up with a squint to assess the giant plant once more. The dark haired man held a smile and arched his brow. 

“You wanna go for a fuckin' climb?” Mickey asked with a tilt of his head, then tipped his chin, gesturing up once more and peered through the branches a bit as well, “Believe it or not, I got a pretty nice fuckin' spot up there,” he informed him and Ian dropped his gaze from the tree to meet the other man’s, green irises laced with intrigue, “Got a fuckin' view and everythin',” Mickey added smoothly with a smirk. The redhead grinned again and arched an eyebrow. 

“You often go around randomly tree climbing in search of vantage points?” Ian asked, then reached out give him a light nudge on the shoulder, “I told you you’re all sweet and soft inside,” he reminded him, “This just kinda proves it,” said Ian in a light joking tone, which the other man chuckled at, flipping him off, then pointed at him. 

“Watch yourself,” Mickey warned without a single shred of heat in his tone, trying his best to fight down his own amused grin, then gestured back to the tree, “And just so you know, this tree ain’t fuckin' random,” as stated very matter-of-factly, arching his brow, “I've had that spot up there for fuckin' years,” said Mickey, “I fuckin' made the shit myself,” he added. The other man let out a small laugh, gave the trunk beside them a glance, then looked back at the other man with a rather sarcastic expression. 

“Did you plant the fucking tree?” Ian queried at the statement, trying not to laugh a bit and the other man’s eyes widened a bit at the audacity, but his smile didn’t fade. Mickey stared at him for a moment, clearly a bit amused at the redhead’s shit talking, not looking at all insulted but as if he were contemplating saying something dickish back to him. Instead he exhaled through his nose a bit and shook his head. 

“No, I didn’t plant the fuckin' tree,” Mickey replied very obviously, then rolled the tip of his tongue over his piercing, across his lip and curled it inside his cheek as his head tilted a bit to the side, “But if ya just fuckin' follow me, I can show ya what I fuckin' mean,” he said simply. Ian held his grin, glanced upward a final time before he looked back at Mickey, offering a nod and a shrug. 

“Alright,” he accepted and the other man mirrored his expression, before turning back around toward the thick, round branch at his hips. 

Before he moved to climb, Ian watched the man suddenly remember the large chain hanging from his pants, then slipped his wallet out from his pocket, switched hands with it to wrap the chain around his waist, then tucked it back into the seat of his pants. Just as he finished his movements, Mickey’s gaze suddenly lifted and the redhead arched an eyebrow, causing him to tilt his head and give a point. 

“Don’t wanna get caught on a fuckin' branch and end up fallin' 'cause a some stupid shit,” he explained with a humorous expression, which Ian chuckled at but agreed with, the precaution making quite a bit of sense and nodded again. 

Then Mickey resumed his focus, lifting himself up onto the branch beside him, then swung his foot up to stand, grabbing the next branch as he rose and continued to climb up into the tree. The redhead double checked the adjustment on his backpack before closing the space toward the heavy, mossy branch as well and began to hoist himself up. Together they climbed for a bit, still exchanging smiles and glances whenever one happen to catch a glimpse of the other’s face, gradually moving higher through the bushy, leafy structure before Ian creased his forehead a bit and called up toward Mickey. 

“Hey,” Ian said, causing the man to pause his movements briefly and drop his face with an eyebrow raised. The redhead tipped his chin, “If this shit’s as good you think it’s gonna be, we’re not gonna end up like, falling the fuck out anyway, are we?” he asked in a half joking-half serious tone, but Mickey just laughed, gave his head half a shake, then turned his face back up to climb some more.

“I sure fuckin' hope not,” he said. 

They both kept ascending, focused on each grasp and foothold, careful to keep a firm, tight grip on every branch, and as they did, Ian found himself also looking outward beyond the branches, letting himself peer through the other treetops, slowly rising up above them. Before long he began to see even more treetops spread across vast, wavy hills of earth, all twisting, rustling and dancing about within the wind, with speckles of birds chirping and fluttering across them to dip away within their green. Ian inhaled deeply as he gazed, letting himself smile again and enjoying the crisp, clean smell of nature blowing through his hair and tugging at his clothes. It was incredible up here, much more so than the cliff and they weren’t even at the top yet, the thought filling the redhead with that much more excitement and began to climb each branch with a bit more intention. 

He quickly began to match his pace with the man above him, nearly passing his level at one point, but Mickey happened to see him as he did, arched a rather competitive eyebrow, then began to move faster. Throughout their mild race to the top, they still stayed sure and tentative in their movements, not risking a slip or mishap, but began to laugh all the same, each eager to be the winner in the end. Then before the redhead realized, he looked up to see how much farther they had to go, when he began to see more blue than green, then noticed a small, wooden platform nailed down firmly between two big, strong branches. Ian creased his brow, then looked toward Mickey, who simply flashed him another grin, gestured toward it with his brow, then closed the distance left to climb atop it and sit. The redhead followed him up on the same side of the platform, swung his foot over a final branch, then stood up to inspect the structure. 

It was simple, somewhat small, but plenty of room for two people to sit, as well as have space for a backpack or whatever small amount of gear they’d lugged up with them. The platform consisted of four, wide, flat, wooden boards, each one firmly nailed into the branches beneath, anchoring them in place, appearing quite sturdy for how basic it looked. It clearly wasn’t intended to be anything fancy, but enough to get the job done, able to lean back quite comfortably against the trunk of the tree, letting your legs dangle at the knees. Ian raised his eyes toward Mickey who’d already swung his pack off his back, into his lap and began to settle, seeing him offer a reassuring flick of his head to climb on. The seat seemed stable, and the man’s expression confident, so the redhead didn’t question it any further and hooked a single knee atop the plank to sit atop it as well. 

He settled in beside him easily, both men exchanging another smile before turning their faces away to peer out to the vastness that surrounded them. The layered hills of forest seemed even more endless than before, shifting, swaying sending endless waves and ripples along the canopy below them. Their spot within their tall, rooted tower stood a bit higher than all the rest, poking out among all the other treetops, to dance alone in the wind, pulling the ends of every branch within it’s gusts and it almost felt like sitting in a cloud. There were many more lakes beyond the trees, some with small patches of leafy little islands scattered over them and more cliff points that stuck out from the greenery here and there, all beautifully brightened beneath the beaming sun, lighting up the earth in way Ian had never seen before. 

Off to his right, beyond the trees he could easily make out both patches of festival field, the rumbling boom of a bass from a stage, vibrating through the air with a deep humming, fighting against the wind. He watched each mob churn within itself, the mingle of thousands of bodies slowly morphing into one, like a swarm of hungry ants in the dirt and felt so much better to get a bit of time away from it all, despite how much fun he’d been having down there with the rest. Ian turned his face back to the man beside him, admiring the deep, sapphire sparkle in his eyes, tracing the sharp arch of his cheek bones and the curve of his lips, feeling himself begin to smile a bit seeing how even the sun couldn’t brighten the soft strands of bold, dark pitch atop his head, wanting to reach over and run his fingers through them. Right now he knew, he’d rather be right here in this moment than anywhere else. It just felt right. 

Mickey turned his face also, catching Ian’s gaze and traced over the redhead’s features as well, much in the same fashion that Ian just had to him, then arched an eyebrow and upturned both palms in his lap. 

“So, whatcha fuckin' think?” asked Mickey quite curiously, clearly eager to hear his thoughts and Ian just tried not to smile anymore by how incredibly amazing he thought this man was, quite honestly impressed by him once again, something Mickey couldn’t seem to stop doing. The redhead held his expression and gave a very sure, genuine nod, glancing down toward the little platform they sat upon, then met his eyes again. 

“This is fucking awesome, Mickey,” Ian praised, then glanced out to admire the view once more, “It’s incredible up here,” he added, “You can see fucking everything,” he noted as his gaze traveled a bit, then looked back toward the other man, and gestured to the wooden planks below them, “You really did this?” queried Ian with a raise of his brow.

“Yeah, man,” Mickey replied proudly, “Pretty fuckin' chill, huh?” he said and Ian nodded again. 

“What made you wanna make it?” the redhead asked, quite curious, causing the other man to shrug a bit. 

“Ever since my first year up here, I always noticed this fuckin' tree,” he began, “Just like stood the fuck out I guess, since it’s so much fuckin' taller than the rest,” Mickey elaborated, then chuckled a bit at himself, “Just always wanted to fuckin' climb the shit,” he said. Ian chuckled a bit as well, still listening, “I mean, I used to do that kinda shit when I lived in fuckin' Chicago too. So many abandoned fuckin' buildings, ya know?” he added, then smirked a bit, “Like a big ass fuckin' playground,” said Mickey and Ian nodded again, having spent time exploring the empty structures in the run down district of South Side himself when he was younger, almost amazed once again that they’d never run into each other while doing so. Such a small world, yet so very far apart. The dark haired man then thumbed his lip a bit and spoke again. 

“But none a those crumblin' shitholes ever went this fuckin' high,” Mickey explained, “So I just kinda fuckin' had to see,” he grinned, the redhead easily mirroring his expression, understanding much more than the other man probably knew that he did and kept listening, never able to hear enough of his voice. 

“Got all the way the fuck up here and sat for a while with a beer,” he said, which the other man quite openly raised his eyebrows at, which Mickey noticed, gave a nod and quickly waved him off, “I wasn’t up here gettin' drunk. I’m not fuckin' stupid,” he added just to be clear, “Just chillin', ya know?” said Mickey, then turned his face outward with a gesture toward the vast beyond, “Shit's just fuckin' relaxin',” he said very simply and Ian understood that as well, letting himself turn to look once more as well. They gazed quietly for a moment before the dark haired man tipped his head back toward Ian. 

“So, I figured I could make it a little more fuckin' comfortable,” said Mickey, his bright, proud smile returning to his face, “My van's had all kinds a fuckin' shit in it at one point or another,” he informed him, “One year, I had a bunch a wood and tools and shit from helpin' Vick with a contracting gig, so I had the extra stuff to do it,” Mickey explained, then knocked on the small space between them with the knuckle of his forefinger, “So, I whipped this shit up, man,” he said happily, “Pretty fuckin' simple shit, but aye, it fuckin' works, eh?” he smirked. 

“It’s very impressive,” Ian complimented with a smile, causing the other man to chew his lip a bit, smiling as well, then pulled his backpack atop his lap to search through. 

“Thanks, man,” he replied, then shrugged a single shoulder as he grasped the bag of Vick's weed in one and continued to fish a bit with his other, “Brought Mandy's ass up here one time right after I set it up,” Mickey said, then tipped his head a bit with another small shrug, “She didn’t think too fuckin' much of it though, the thick-headed bitch,” he added with a small grumble, appearing as if he were trying to sound like it didn’t bother him, but it still seemed to, somewhere deep down. The redhead pushed out his lip, shrugging a bit as well, then tipped his head toward Mickey some. 

“Not everyone understands,” Ian admitted, causing Mickey to pause a bit and meet his gaze, seeing the redhead offer a very genuine expression of admiration, “I fucking love it though,” he said. The other man smiled and let his eyes linger for a moment before turning his face back to his pack, rummaging around again briefly, then extracted his hand with a bit of frustration. 

“Fuck,” he mumbled. 

“What?” asked Ian with an eyebrow raised. The other man let out a sigh and gestured to his backpack. 

“Forgot my fuckin' papers,” responded Mickey, then turned to look at him, “Didn’t wanna put this shit in the pipe,” he said. 

Instantly Ian unzipped his own pack and began to fish through it’s contents before extracting his own book of rolling papers and passing them over. The dark haired man looked from the papers, up to his face with a very impressed look of surprise and cocked his head to the side. 

“Well, check it the fuck out,” said Mickey, then let his eyes trail down over him in a very appealing way, “Red here’s fuckin' prepared,” he noted with a very fond tone looking over his face again, “I like that, man,” he added lowly, a slight suggestive arch pulling at a single brow, then bit his lip a bit. 

Ian felt himself blush a bit under his gaze, but smiled lightly all the same, feeling quite confident beside the other man after having seemed to impress him somewhat. The redhead let himself float atop that very same wave of confidence and took a chance, reaching over to wrap a palm around the other man’s thigh, just above his knee, giving it a small, affectionate squeeze. When he did, Mickey simply held his smile, dropping his sight from Ian’s eyes to his lips, then ran the tip of tongue over his piercing as if contemplating a thought, before he gently broke their eye contact to begin rolling a joint. 

Ian kept looking at him, unable to fight the pull and let his hand softly rub the warm, clothed leg within it’s grasp, watching as the other man clearly enjoyed it, glancing toward the movement every so often and rolling his tongue back beneath his lip. Mickey got the joint rolled, placed it between his lips, then began patting around for his lighter, still not at all trying to move the other man’s hand from his leg, before he found his zippo and flipped it open to spark with flame. As he lit the bud and pulled in a gulp of smoke, his brow suddenly creased, his cheeks puffed out and he instantly raised a fist to his mouth to cough. Ian punched out a laugh and instantly released his grip on the man’s thigh to pat him firmly on the back with a rub, who just continued to cough, clamping his eyes shut and giving his chest a single, hard whack with his fist. 

“I guess Vick got it right, huh?” asked Ian with a grin. The other man nodded quite surely, his face still crinkled up a bit and his eyes still shut as he passed the joint over and tried to catch his breath. 

Ian retracted his hand from his back to grasp the joint, then raised it to his lips, careful to take a much smaller hit than his companion had and inhaled. The smoke was sour and tangy, but smooth and heavy, rolling down his throat and floating through his lungs. But even on a small pull, it was strong and Ian had to pull the joint back just as quickly as Mickey had and raised a hand to his chest as he exhaled hard into a cloud in front of him. He coughed a bit and looked at Mickey whose eyes had watered just slightly from his own cough, but still grinned all the same watching as Ian attempted to settle his own body’s protest. The dark haired man raised a questioning eyebrow as he split a cocky smirk which Ian instantly conceded to with a nod of agreement. 

“Yep,” he confirmed, “Definitely got it right this time,” said Ian. 

Both men laughed, then quickly settled in a bit more together, closing what little space there was between them, passing smoke and exchanging the same lingering gazes as before, falling into the same comfortable conversation they always seemed to now. The bud really was quite strong, quickly draping them both in a soft, hazy buzz, seeming to give them both a bit more confidence in their gazes, their touches and their mildly suggestive remarks. Their hands and fingers had woven back together, only needing a single one free to pass the smoke, while the other pair of palms stay clamped together between them. Then as Mickey pulled a drag with soft gentle eyes moving over Ian’s face, he spoke softly and fondly, completely honest in his words. 

“I wanna know more about you, man,” Mickey confessed, then exhaled an airy whisp of smoke, “I wanna know fuckin' everythin',” he said.

Ian gazed right back at him, a subtle distracting flutter dancing within his chest and waited quietly while the other man’s eyes continued to move over him in thought, not at all turning down the other man’s curiosity. The dark haired man chewed his lip a bit as he thought with clear consideration, then raised his pierced eyebrow a bit. 

“What’s fuckin' home like for you?” Mickey finally queried, catching the other man a bit off guard, but didn’t quite feel the too invasive, just a bit random really, then began to think himself when Mickey spoke again and helped him form an answer, “Didn't you say that you live with your fuckin' siblings or somethin'?” he asked. The redhead gave a single nod as he took a hit from the joint. 

“Yeah,” Ian confirmed, “Just for now though,” he added, trying not to feel too ashamed for still living at home, “Helping them out while I’m there of course, but I’m still trying to save some money to get back out,” Ian elaborated some, “It’s already so fucking crowded, so I just kinda take up space,” he said, trying to manage a smile. But the other man didn’t smile back, appearing somewhat bothered by that train of thought and creased his brow a bit. 

“I doubt you just take up fuckin' space, man,” Mickey countered with a head cock. The other man cocked his head as well, pressing his lips together a bit, then exhaled as he passed the bud back.

“Well, my oldest sister is married and has two kids,” Ian informed him with a countering tone of his own, “And my older brother is in college, but still lives at home to help out with bills,” he continued, “Never really had parents for any of that shit, so it’s always been up to us,” Ian added, which the other man seemed quite understanding of, much to Ian’s relief, “My younger sister is pregnant and her boyfriend is staying there too to help with that. But my younger brother is in Juvie for the next eight months, so it’s not like he’s really an extra mouth right now. He just kinda takes up the empty spot my brother left behind, but still,” Ian trailed off a bit, watching the other man’s face as he spoke, searching for some trace of judgement etched into his features but found none at all, appearing nothing but completely interested in every single word he was saying, helping him feel not so insecure about his home life as he usually does. He reached to rub the back of his neck and offered a small shrug. 

“Then my youngest brother is just a kid,” Ian added finally, “So he’s there too,” he said, “Just way too fucking crowded for me,” Ian finalized with a drop of his hand, but the dark haired man didn’t appear to budge in his stance, holding the same expression and cocking his head again. 

“Might be fuckin' crowded,” he agreed, then shook his head, “Still don’t fuckin' mean you’re just takin' up space,” Mickey repeated, then sucked a drag from the joint and gestured toward him with an elbow, “You said you fuckin' contribute, right?” he pointed out, causing Ian to nod, but still disagree. 

“Yeah,” replied Ian, “But it’s just to cover my own ass, really,” he told him, “I wasn’t living there for over a year, so they got used to it that way,” the redhead explained, referring to when he’d been living with Jason, which Mickey seemed to catch without him needing to say so, “But since I’m back now, it’s just that much more food, electricity and hot water being used up again,” said Ian, “I just make up the difference, so it doesn’t cause a problem,” he said, “I’m getting back outta there as soon as I fucking can, so they won’t have to worry about it anymore.” 

Mickey stayed quiet for a moment, considering what Ian had said while he handed the joint over, his face never straying from the understanding, yet thoughtful expression that it bore and leaned toward him a bit as his thumb began to gently brush over the other man’s hand. 

“You ever fuckin' think a gettin' outta Chicago all together?” asked Mickey. 

The redhead creased his brow a bit at the question, because honestly he never really had before, but even thinking of it now, knew something like that really wasn’t so simple. Ian chuckled a bit and raised an eyebrow. 

“Where the fuck would I go?” Ian queried back, “There’s nothing for me anywhere else,” he stated flatly, but the other man merely held his expression and pushed a bit further. 

“If there was, would ya go?” Mickey asked, the blue in his eyes sparkling beneath the sunshine above. 

The redhead scanned over him, trying to read more into his words, but not letting his mind get carried away with whatever hidden meaning there was within the other man’s tone and thought again with careful consideration. He then tilted his own head a bit and answered quite smoothly, but honestly, just in case there was ever actually any weight to Mickey’s question, then offered a small smile. 

“I guess it depends on what it is,” he replied. Mickey seemed to accept that response and offered a light nod of acknowledgement.

They passed the rest of the weed back forth between them until he began to roach and Mickey snuffed it on the edge to the board below them, then flicked it out into the open air to get flung away on a gust of wind. Then Ian hesitated a bit, having a few questions of his own and took another chance, taking a deep, yet subtle breath before asking one. 

“Why’d you leave?” Ian queried carefully, remembering the vibe he’d gotten from Mickey when they’d briefly spoke of it before, though he hadn’t felt comfortable enough to ask about it then. Now seemed to be a better time, having gained some trust between them and Ian just hoped he hadn’t over stepped. The dark haired man hesitated a bit, but didn’t ignore his query, thinking again, then scratched the bridge of his nose with the back of his thumb. 

“My uh, old man ain’t exactly the greatest fuckin' asshole to be around,” Mickey began, the other man honestly a bit surprised that he was willing to answer and gave him his full and undivided attention, “Motherfucker drinks like a fuckin' fish and likes to pick fights like an ape on fuckin' steroids,” he explained further, then thumbed his lip some. 

“When I was about thirteen, my mom finally left his ass. Tried to take us all with her,” said Mickey, then shook his head a bit, “But he caught her loadin' us into the car and flipped the fuck out. Big, huge fuckin' scene,” he elaborated with a loose wave of his hand, “Said she could take Mandy, but my brothers and I were stayin',” he said very resentful tone, then met Ian’s eyes, “So, she did,” Mickey stated simply, “Not like the asshole really gave her much fuckin' choice though, so I don’t fuckin' blame her,” he chuckled darkly, then hardened his face some, “But as soon as she was fuckin' gone, my dad just fuckin' lost it,” said Mickey, his brow bearing a deep, firm crease, “Couldn’t fuckin' handle the fact that she was actually fuckin' gone and took his anger out on us. Did the shit for fuckin' years just cause he didn't have nothin' fuckin’ better to do,” he added.

Ian thought once more of the scars he’d seen on Mickey’s back earlier in the morning and felt his heart jab with a thorn of sadness, understanding now where they must have come from. He stayed quiet, respecting the weight of the conversation and was still grateful that the other man felt close enough with him to share such deeply personal experiences, not taking it lightly at all. Mickey let himself look into the other man’s eyes, seeing this all quite clearly, then looked away and proceeded a bit slowly. 

“My old man is really big fuckin' fag hater too,” he explained carefully, watching Ian’s face as he spoke, searching for any change or discomfort, but found none and went on, “Like, just really fuckin' despises the shit and everything about it,” Mickey continued, “Doesn’t fuckin' understand that ya can’t help the shit, that it ain’t a fuckin' choice,” he quite firmly, as if the fact was something he’d even had to convince himself of at one point in time but sounding sure and definite in his words regardless, then turned his face just a bit, flickering blue eyes back up to green, “So I always just fuckin' hid it,” he said.

As Ian listened, the man in his heart swelled a bit more, feeling awful that Mickey had to endure such an upbringing, forced to take such abuse from his father without his mother around anymore all while having to hide who he truly was. The redhead almost felt angry with himself, having completely taken for granted how simple it was for him to come out to his family, especially while knowing Mickey couldn’t have ever done any such thing nearly as easily. It just wasn’t fair. He reached for his pocket to retrieve his cigarettes, then lit one as he stayed quiet, pulling only a single drag before passing it to Mickey, knowing the man may need it, as he still wasn’t done answering Ian’s query. He took it from him, sucked in a puff of blue smoke, then exhaled above his head. 

“I think he always kinda had his fuckin' suspicions though,” Mickey admitted with a shrug, “Just couldn’t find any fuckin' proof to do much a anythin' about it,” he said, “Didn’t stop the motherfucker from tryin' though,” he added with another dark chuckle slipping past his lips, “It was always fuckin' somethin',” Mickey continued with the same resentment as before, “He’d catch me fuckin' doodlin' or some shit, he’d snatch it, rip the shit to shreds and tell me to ‘quit the fuckin' faggy shit,' or 'only fuckin' fairies draw flowers,'" he barked in a deep, harsh tone, obviously impersonating his father. Mickey scoffed at the memory, then upturned a palm, “I got so fuckin' sick of it, by the time I was fifteen, I just kinda stopped fuckin' carin' if he found out or not,” he said, “I mean, if he thinks I’m a fuckin' faggot anyway, what’s the fuckin' point in tryin' to fuckin' hide it anymore? Didn’t give a shit if he killed me for it or not,” Mickey stated bluntly. 

Ian pushed out his lip and raised his eyebrows at the other man’s bravery, keeping his full focus on everything he was saying, afraid yet intrigued about whatever was to come. The dark haired man shifted a bit, appearing as if perhaps he’d never really spoken to anyone about this before, hesitating a bit, but seeming to trust the man beside him enough to share it. 

“There was this uh, dude I was kinda fuckin' seein' at the time,” Mickey revealed with a slight chew of his lip, now looking away from Ian a bit, “Just started out as a fuckin' buddy, but then I found out he was gay too and we started fuckin' around a little bit,” he said, then gave another shrug, “More outta convenience than any fuckin' thing else though, I think,” Mickey added quite honestly, which Ian understood completely, his first relationship with the closeted married clerk from the local corner store having been quite a similar arrangement. The dark haired man dropped his eyes to their interlaced fingers with a bit more hesitation, but seemed to find some bit of comfort within the contact and found his voice again. 

“So, my dad used to make these long ass fuckin' dope runs two states over for this big blow manufacturer he worked for,” Mickey explained, causing Ian to raise his brow a bit again, but still didn’t interrupt to speak, somehow knowing this particular fact about the other man’s father wasn’t necessarily important to the story and let it slide for now, “So he’d be gone for a fuckin' week at a time sometimes,” he said, “And my brothers are either never fuckin' around anyway, or out on the same run with his fatass. So, I had the place to my fuckin' self a lot,” informed Mickey, the man beside him beginning to guess where this was going. 

“Started havin' my buddy come by, so we’d have a place to bang that wasn’t like in a fuckin' alley or behind some shit heap abandoned building,” Mickey explained, letting himself chuckle a bit, but still bore the same heavy expression, scratching his nose once more, “But we started gettin' a little too fuckin' comfortable with it,” he confessed regretfully, “I guess I shoulda took my dad a little more fuckin' seriously, but I really just didn’t give a fuck anymore,” said Mickey. He pulled a drag from the cigarette, then exhaled through his nose as he passed it. 

“One time he came back early from a run,” he said, and Ian felt his heart sink at the words, pausing on bringing the cigarette to his lips. 

“He caught you two…?” Ian asked quietly, trailing off at the end of his query. The other man gave his head a shake. 

“He didn’t catch us fuckin',” he replied, but still pressed his lips together tight for a moment and tilted his head slowly to the side, “He did walk in to see me on my fuckin' knees with a cock down my fuckin' throat though,” Mickey explained, his voice laced with shame, looking somewhat toward Ian, but not quite at him, though their hands remained firmly embraced, “Finally got the fuckin' proof he’d been lookin' for,” he said quietly. 

Ian squeezed the other man’s hand, letting him know that he was listening, really listening and that he was there and didn’t judge him for what happened at all, trying to tell Mickey not to blame himself either, that it wasn’t his fault. The dark haired man squeezed right back, seeming to hear his silent words, then took the cigarette once more as the redhead offered it back over. 

“He went fuckin' ballistic, man,” Mickey breathed, “Tried goin' after my buddy first and I just fuckin' panicked,” he said, then finally, yet very hesitantly looked back over at Ian to connect their gaze for just a moment, “I couldn’t fuckin' let him hurt him,” Mickey insisted, “It wasn’t his fuckin' fault I was bein' stupid for havin' him over or that my dad’s a raging homophobic fuckin' lunatic,” he said, the redhead nodding with understanding. 

“So I jumped up and decked my old man as hard as I fuckin' could so he’d come after me instead and my buddy could fuckin' run for it,” he continued, “Cause if he didn’t, my dad woulda fuckin’ killed him,” Mickey stated with confidence, then dropped his eyes and gave his head a rather defeated looking shake, “Held him off long enough for that, but not long enough for me,” he added, his voice falling a bit lower once again, “He fuckin' wailed on me, man, with his fists, with his feet and anythin' else in arm’s fuckin' reach,” said Mickey, his shoulder blades shifting along his back beneath the repress of a shudder, “Really fuckin' thought he was gonna end my shit,” he whispered. 

The redhead rubbed his thumb along the soft flesh of the other man’s hand, his chest filling with pain, sympathy and sorrow, offering what small affection he could in the hopes of reassuring the other man that it was all okay now, leaning toward him some more to give him a bit more of the closeness that seemed to keep him anchored now. 

“How’d you get out of that?” Ian asked quietly. The dark haired man rolled his tongue along his lower lip, sucked it into his mouth and scratched his nose again. 

“Iggy came home,” replied Mickey, his voice very obviously grateful of the fact, “Found my dad beatin' the livin' piss outta me and bashed him in the head with a fuckin' whiskey bottle,” he said, then turned his face back to look into Ian’s again, “Iggs has known I was gay since we were little fuckin' kids, so I when I told him what happened, he wasn’t fuckin' surprised,” Mickey informed him, “And we all know how my fuckin' dad is too,” he added, “So, he helped me pack some shit and we went out back.” Ian creased his forehead a bit, but still listened further. 

“The summer before all this shit, Iggs and I had a fuckin' junker van we were tryin' to fix up,” said Mickey, “My van,” he clarified with emphasis, “We’d got it goin' just enough to fuckin' run, but that’s it. Still a fuckin' death trap piece a shit though,” he chuckled, “But it ran,” Mickey repeated pulling another smoky drag from the filter between his fingers, “He helped me load my shit up, then told me to fuckin' take off,” he said, his expression appearing as if he were still surprised by that, “Said he’d send my dad in a different fuckin' direction to give me a head start,” Mickey explained, passing the smoke, “Told him to come with me, but he just kept fuckin' insisting I’d get farther without him, so he could throw our old man off for a while,” he tilted his head regretfully as he spoke, “Had to fuckin' leave him behind,” said Mickey. 

“It worked though,” Mickey said proudly, thankfully, with so much relief in his voice that his whole demeanor suddenly changed back to appearing quite relaxed that it was all in the past, looking back over at Ian with a smirk on his lips and a sparkle in his eyes, “Made it all the fuckin' way up to my mom’s in Minneapolis and Iggs got his hands on another fuckin' junker a couple years ago, started swingin' through for visits a few times a year,” he said, sounding quite content with how things had turned out, “It’s so much fuckin' better than livin' back in that shithole with that son of a bitch,” Mickey assured, “My mom never gave a shit that I was into dudes, so I never had to fuckin' hide the shit from her,” he informed him, the same clear sense of relief still lacing through his tone, “Best thing I ever fuckin' did was leave,” he said. 

As sad as it made him that Mickey had practically been forced to flee the city he’d grown up in, he completely understood why he’d had to, why he never would have been free trapped within such a relentless prison under his father’s merciless prejudice. But still it made the redhead wonder, that if perhaps things were different, or if he simply never had to enter his father’s house again, if Mickey’s thoughts on Chicago could ever be any different, if he’d ever be willing to return if he had a good enough reason to. Ian would never guilt or force him into such a thing, finding it quite brave and inspiring that at such a young age, and after such a relentless attack, he’d been able to such an escape at all. But he was still curious, wanting so very badly to stay connected to Mickey after this was all over, feeling even closer to the man after what he’d just shared with him and simply had to ask anyway, just needing to know. 

“So, you’d probably never consider going back, I assume?” Ian queried lightly, “Not that I fucking blame you at all,” he added honestly, but still held his gaze on the other man as he waited for his answer. 

“Not fuckin' likely, man," Mickey replied with a head shake, “Ain’t nothin' fuckin' for me there,” he said. Ian squeezed the other man’s hand again and let his eyes trail delicately over his face. 

“But if there was,” the redhead countered softly, “Would you go?” Ian asked a bit lower, “Even for just a little while?” he queried further.

Blue twinkled lightly between green in silence for a moment, the only noise between them were the whispers of the leaves dancing in the wind, and Mickey paused very thoughtfully, before he tilted his head as well and answered in the same low voice.

“I guess it depends on what it fuckin' is,” replied Mickey, somewhat mirroring the redhead’s own response from earlier and Ian’s breath slowed as the meaning of his words suddenly hit him, realizing just exactly what Mickey was saying to him. 

He felt the same way, wanted to see him again too, wanted to stay connected after this was all over, so much so, he’d be willing to return to very place he’d escaped from just to be with him again, even if it only for just a short while. Of course it obviously wouldn’t be anything permanent, but it’d be something, it’d be enough, more than enough for Ian and he knew that for almost a certainty. 

He couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face, but he sure as fuck didn’t want to either, weaving his fingers more tightly within the other man’s grasp and leaning in a little more, wanting so very badly to show Mickey how he was feeling in this moment, what he meant to him already. Mickey seemed to feel the pull as well, sharing the same longing gaze, letting his eyes fall to Ian’s lips, then closed the space himself to kiss him, slowly and softly. 

It felt like sparks, shivers, tingles of tiny explosions bursting about within his brain and all else around them seemed to fade, drowning out somewhere in the distance. Nothing had ever felt so perfect, so right, so incredibly meant to be than his heart did when he was here with Mickey. If he could pause time to savor any moment in his life for just a little longer, it’d be this one, without a single doubt. 

In this very moment, nothing else mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter!  
> I'd love to hear your feedback! :)  
> Also, just letting anyone who happens to also read my other WIP know that I am shifting my full focus onto HTS, so I can pump out an update on it! :)  
> It's on the way, I promise! I greatly appreciate everyone's patience, sincerely. Thank you :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a new chapter is here for you guys! :)  
> Sorry for the delay! Here it is!  
> I'm still editing it, of course, so please ignore any typos for now.  
> I really hope this chapter doesn't feel rushed or boring, I tried very hard for it not to be such. Please let me know if anything feels lagged!  
> Other than that, please enjoy the update and don't hesitate to share your thoughts and questions with me! I really, really love getting feedback!  
> Here ya go! :)

The pair stayed together within their leafy, concealed platform hidden within the treetop, finishing their joint and sharing another as they continued to talk a bit more and growing even closer as they did. Ian especially felt quite honored really that Mickey had been willing to share so much with him, that he trusted him enough to feel comfortable in doing so. He also knew that because Mickey had offered so much, that he’d revealed some very personal things, that it was only fair that the redhead work up the nerve to share more about himself as well, as nervous as he still was about it. But he was determined to do it, slowly urging himself to open up without the fear of rejection, no matter how hard it was. Ian just needed a little more time to do that. 

As they sat high above the rest of the world, they kept talking, their hands kept grasping, weaving together fingers and shifting closer again within the leaves. Both had quite a heavy buzz flowing from Vick's specialty weed, and even decided to roll another joint hoping to intensify it. It caused them each to pull closer yet again, every lingering gaze and seductive smirk urging the other to reach over to grasp at knees and hands, then a bit further, curling around hips and waists, pushing together close, before sharing more soft, tender kisses that began to grow as well. Then after a short while, eventually becoming rather handsy, eager and quite wrapped up, with heavier breaths and harsher tongues, just needing to touch, feel, and taste every bit of each other, both decided it may be best to make their way back down to the ground before they really did end up falling out instead. 

So slowly, they descended from their windy perch atop their tree, moving downward with the same cautious steps, swaying a bit from their bud buzz as they did, flashing more glances back and forth the whole way down. Another day was going quite well so far, and both men definitely seemed happy about the fact as they reached the bottom branch, jumped carefully down onto the stony, rooted forest floor and slowed their movements with another heavy lingering gaze, not yet moving to walk back through the brush. 

The deep sapphire of Mickey’s eyes shimmered as they looked the redhead over, then landed on his face and paused on his lips as he slowly licked his own. Ian gazed right back, feeling his breath slow as the dark haired man took a slow step forward and gently reached up to grasp the back of Ian’s neck to pull his face down and kiss him again. The redhead kissed him back in the same soft way he had before, even moving closer to press his chest into Mickey’s and wrapped a strong, freckled arm around his back as he leaned them both into the big, mossy trunk beside them. The other man hummed against his lips and kissed him even harder, pulling at the sides of Ian’s shirt to bring him even closer and twisting his tongue with a hungry, eager need. 

Ian felt a hot rush of blood begin pumping down into his pelvis, hardening his cock and mingling within his balls as he pressed himself into Mickey, sighing into his mouth when he pushed back as well just as hard and aroused as Ian was. The dark haired man bit down on the redhead’s lip, then slid his hands down his sides to his hips, before pushing his hands up under Ian’s shirt to rub and caress the muscles of his abs. Mickey glanced down toward his roaming hands, while Ian let him touch whatever part of him he wanted, then paused on the front of his hips, letting his thumb rub over the thin trail of bright red hair that ran down from his navel and disappeared inside his jeans. 

“I wanna suck your cock,” Mickey breathed quietly then met the redhead’s eyes as they widened with a bit of surprise at his sudden honesty, split a smile and hooded his gaze more deeply at the words, “But not here,” he added, “Wanna take ya somewhere else,” informed Mickey, “It’s not exactly fuckin' private though,” he admitted. Ian blinked a bit, raised an eyebrow and split a rather surprised smirk. 

“You got some kinda exhibitionist kink that I should know about, Mick?” he asked in a rather playful tone and the other man smirked back with a slight arch of his brow. 

“Not exactly,” he answered quickly, earning him another grin, then bit down on his lip ring with a guilty head cock, “Well, maybe just a little fuckin' bit,” Mickey confessed lowly, “Once in a fuckin' while,” he added just as low, speaking with a small shrug. Ian’s eyebrow began to arch a little higher with intrigue, still quite surprised by the discovery and Mickey cocked his head a bit the other way, “We don’t gotta fuckin' go if you don’t wanna though,” he offered, but Ian quickly shook his head. 

“We can go,” the redhead countered a bit too fast, causing the other man to chuckle with amusement at such an eager response, “I told you, I’m not fucking shy,” Ian reminded him confidently and the other man’s eyes twinkled over his face as he chewed the corner of his lip with a grin. 

“Well we ain’t gonna be on fuckin' display or any shit like that,” Mickey clarified with assurance, “But I did kinda wanna fuckin' show ya somethin' cool about it,” he said, “There just might be some other fuckers back there too is all,” he explained. 

Ian gave nod, not at all swaying from his decision, not that it was a difficult one anyway, even if they may not exactly be alone while engaged, and tried not to get too excited as he took a step back and readjusted his pants a bit. 

“Show me,” Ian directed. 

Mickey simply held his smirk, readjusted his own pants, as well as unwrapped the wallet chain from his waist to hang back down low at his side, then looked back up as he curled his tongue beneath the piercing in his lip.

“Come on,” he advised in return with a pointed head flick, then turned to find their original path back through the trees and into the first field. 

They wove their way back through the large, clustered arrangement of tents and sheeted shelters, made a stop at Mickey’s van to drop off their backpacks, then moved to walk through the pathway and emerge on the other side. The festival was crowded again, the size of the massive mob at its peak once more, forcing Ian and Mickey to try harder not to lose one another within each shift of foot traffic.

At one point Mickey ended up in front of Ian and they were almost separated by another churn of bodies pushing between them, widening the redhead's eyes as he saw the space between them threaten to close. But before anyone could move into his way, Ian took a quicker step, reached his hands out to grasp Mickey by the hips and molded himself against his back with one arm wrapping around his waist, refusing to be split from him and left behind. The dark haired man looked back at Ian from over his shoulder when he did, split a small smile, then turned his face back ahead, dropping a single hand to wrap his arm over Ian’s and lace their fingers together, keeping pace with the other bodies as he did. Ian dropped his face to the back of Mickey’s neck to hide his smile, grateful the other man didn't seem to mind being in such close contact so openly and stayed close against him as they walked. 

Eventually Mickey brought him closer to one of the stages, the only one currently occupied with some screaming, bouncing metal band raging around atop it, as well as a rough, clashing crowd surging against the fence that surrounded it. Ian creased his brow a bit when he noticed, not quite understanding how they could possibly succeed in fooling around of any kind in a place where they’d both risk being trampled, let alone so publicly observed. But then Mickey shot him another handsome smirk just as they reached the back of the stage’s crowd and were able to part from their traveling embrace for a moment within a small patch of clearing. The dark haired man turned completely, dropping his arm, but keeping hold of Ian’s hand and gave it a small squeeze as his eyes trailed up from the creases of his chest to trace fondly over his face. 

“You sure you wouldn’t rather fuckin' be alone?” asked Mickey, "Like somewhere a little more fuckin' private?" he rephrased, clearly wanting to be sure that he wasn’t talking Ian into something he didn’t really want to do, “I won’t be fuckin' disappointed, man,” he assured with a raise of his brow, then flashed him yet another smirk, “I still just wanna suck your cock,” Mickey said with a light chuckle and a very hazily buzzed yet still very honest sounding tone, “I don’t really give a fuck where we are when I do it,” he grinned with glossy eyes, the tip of his tongue running slowly across his lower lip. The redhead chuckled as well, then took a brief glance around them. 

“Well, you’re not planning on dropping to your fucking knees right here, are you?” Ian asked back sarcastically, disbelievingly and Mickey punched out a laugh from his chest with a head shake. 

“Nah, not quite,” he denied, then tipped his head pointedly to the side, “Spot ain’t too fuckin' far from here though,” said Mickey, then gave a shrug, “And like I said, it’s kinda fuckin' cool.”

Ian looked over his face and into his eyes seeing the hints of a smoky red tint around his lids and the hazy gloss that coated his irises, causing him to feel skeptical for a moment and just had to ask. 

“And you don’t just wanna do this cause you’re fucking toasted, right?” he queried, but Mickey instantly let a thick, contradicting scoff pass through his lips, looking at Ian as if his assumption sounded ridiculously absurd and shook his head again as he waved off his words.

“Nah, I’d still blow ya completely fuckin' sober,” Mickey replied quite blunty, but with clear and complete surety, causing Ian to be the one to laugh, not at all expecting to hear that, tipping his head back a bit, then met his eyes again, seeing the way they traveled back over his body quite appealingly, “I just fuckin' want ya, man,” he added lowly with a lip bite. Ian mirrored his lip bite and tipped his chin with acceptance, just before Mickey flashed him another smirk, creased his forehead and raised an eyebrow. 

"You're not fuckin' turnin' me down or some shit are ya?" he queried in a very sarcastically cocky tone that Ian grinned at, instantly giving his head a firm shake. 

"Fuck no," he replied a bit too quickly, earning him another chuckle as he took another glance around, “Where is it?” Ian asked, giving the other man’s hand an anxious grasp, wanting him just as much. Mickey offered another pointed tip of his head and took a step back with a gentle pull of his arm to lead him. 

“Back here,” said Mickey. 

The dark haired man walked Ian along the back of the crowd, over toward it’s edge and began making steps closer to the stage, the boom from the amp they were approaching punching violently through the air and deafening their ears. As they got closer, Ian noticed Mickey had led them around to the outside of the fence, now bringing him down along the fence that surrounded the stage and further back toward whatever space there was behind it. It was loud, the music erupting from the speakers nearby shaking the grass, the ground and even the very air around them, pulsing outward with a thick, heavy vibration. As they rounded the corner and began creeping around equipment behind the big, blaring platform, moving through long grass and bushes that sprung up from the dirt and clung to the tree line. 

At first, it seemed quite empty back here, vacant, and alone within the pound of heavy bass flooding over them, until Ian caught a glimpse of a man with his pants around his ankles and a woman between his legs, wrapped around his body and pressed against the back of the stage with a blitzy, lust-drenched expression on her face. Mickey shot him a small glance as they passed them, seeing if he now understood what Mickey meant by 'not exactly private,' but Ian wasn’t fazed, really not minding if others were engaged nearby and they weren’t exactly in close vicinity anyway. They also passed a pair of men partially concealed by some bushes, with one laying on his back and the other straddled over him moving with a bounce at a rather vigorous pace. Though no one they passed seemed to pay them any mind, so Ian didn’t either, continuing to walk and focus on the man leading him, still just wondering a bit about why exactly Mickey would want to bring him back here instead of really anywhere else, not that he minded.

They approached a space that was well away from all the others, though not at all concealed if someone were to walk by, but Mickey still turned to stop him, finding the spot to be just where he wanted it. Mickey took a step toward him and said something brief, but it was far too loud for Ian to hear his words, causing the redhead to crease his brow and push his chin out with a squinty, questioning expression. But the other man just laughed, the burst of humor just as muffled as his voice was and took another step forward to place a hand on Ian’s chest, lightly pushing him back to lean against the stage. Then the instant he did, something happened that Ian definitely hadn’t been expecting, instantly understanding what exactly it was that Mickey found so cool and just had to show him about this spot.

As his body pressed against the edge of the platform, the entire back side of his body nearly felt fused in it’s place, the rough, intense rippling of bass and speakers suddenly coursing through his limbs, down along his back, into his chest and covered every nerve along Ian's skin with a pleasurable wave of trembling, flowing vibration. He couldn’t help but gasp a bit at how powerful and intense it felt as each pulse, pound and beat swam and coarsed so powerfully and fluidly throughout his body, something he’d definitely never felt before. 'This really is fucking cool,’ Ian thought. 

He placed both palms flat against the back of the stage at his sides, enjoying the pounding, blaring sensation and glanced toward Mickey, seeing him begin to grin widely and appear quite satisfied of his reaction. Then the dark haired man smiled more softly, warmly, as he took a step forward to kiss him and pressed his own body into the vibration as well, fusing them both together within the ripples. Ian welcomed the embrace, wrapping his arms around Mickey's waist, quickly pulling him closer and instantly deepening their kiss without any hesitation or restraint. 

Both men grasped and pulled, rutted and grinded into each other, both of their cocks quickly hardening once more, arising a pleasurable friction between them and the heat of their flushed, needy breaths smoothly mixed together within the blare. Mickey’s hands found Ian’s hips once more and began to slowly glide upward, grasping beneath his shirt and caressing the hot flesh of the muscles within, pressing himself ever closer as he searched over the redhead’s skin with his fingertips. When he pushed, Ian pulled, the redhead's hands moving to do the same, reaching down to smooth anxiously over a hard pack of abs and up over the other man’s chest, just needing to feel more of him.

Ian ran the tip of his tongue over Mickey's lower lip, clinking their piercings together, earning him a pleasurable groan he could feel rumble in the other man's chest. Then he flashed the redhead a cocky smirk, arched a sharp brow and bit Ian's lip in return, getting a groan from Ian that felt just as lustful, just as eager and felt just as thick and strong, as a steady pound of bass remained pumping through them. The dark haired man held his expression, then dipped his head to latch a rough, wet kiss onto the side of Ian's neck, teasing him with the edges of his teeth, then began to suck deep and hard into his skin as his hands pulled Ian's shirt higher up his body. 

But Ian simply let him, much too lost in every overwhelming sensation the other man was flooding him with, wanting more, needing it and quickly beginning to ache for it, closing his eyes and biting his lip as he felt more skin along his neck begin to purple and turn tender from Mickey's rough, eager mouth. It just felt incredible, savoring and relishing the feeling of the other man's hands, lips and body all over him, like Mickey needed it too, desperately trying to quench the very same seemingly incurable thrist. It was a different feeling than any time Ian had ever been with anyone else, and he just couldn't seem to get enough wondering if the other man felt the same thing. 

Mickey rubbed his hands higher up Ian's chest, one grasping hard over a pectoral while the other offered his nipple piercing on the other side a quick, playful tug, that pulled a moan out of the redhead that was drowned out within the speaker's pulse. But the dark haired man seemed to feel the sound within his teeth, biting into the flesh of his neck more deeply with a needy, reciprocating moan of his own, just before he gave Ian's shirt a yank to slip up over his head. Again Ian let him, not caring or minding a single bit as they both let it fall and disappear within the lengthy sea of grass around their feet.

Ian curled his arm more tightly around him and rolled his hips forward, feeling Mickey follow his movements to do the same, before he dropped his face further to bite and suck along the redhead's collarbone. The other man turned his own face to place a kiss just beneath Mickey's ear, then sucked his lobe between his lips, twisting the tip of tongue over it with another moan rolling up his throat, that only earned him another hard, sharp bite that simply made him tremble. 

He opened his eyes with a flicker, his lashes fluttering a bit as he gazed beneath a lustfully knitted brow, down to the beautiful, blue eyed man wrapped into him, watching as he moved his lips over to another spot of Ian's chest with a trail of kisses. The redhead bit his lip once more and lowered a hand to firmly grasp Mickey's ass inside a single wide palm, which caused the man to moan into his kisses and grind his hard, clothed cock back into Ian's, clearly liking the gesture quite a bit. So Ian squeezed again, dropping his other palm to strengthen his grasp around him. Mickey wrapped his arms around the other man's back with a hard, yet soothing rub, then scratched his fingernails down along it as his lips parted from Ian's skin for hardly an instant, mouthing out 'fuck' against his chest. 

The redhead split a satisfied smirk that the dark haired man caught as his eyes opened and he looked back into Ian's eyes, slowly beginning to mirror his expression with a heavily, hooded gaze. Green and blue shimmered together through the lingering haze, just before blue dropped back to the set of lips in front of him and locked his own back onto them. It was another deep kiss, a passionate one, an intimate one that was both slow and sweet, but quickened almost instantly with the same pull and urge as before, turning from mere kissing to moaning and panting into each other's mouths. 

Ian kept hold of Mickey's ass, realizing that each and every grasp and squeeze only seemed to fuel the fire that burned between them and made the other man try to enhance every movement of his own with flames simmering through his fingers. 'Maybe he really is a bottom?' a little voice wondered from the back of Ian's mind, that only made his palms act with more need in their grip, silently hoping that perhaps it was true, really, really fucking wanting it to be. 

Then Mickey dug his fingernails into the back of Ian's hips and he turned the redhead's face with the side of his own, kissing his way back into the crook of Ian's neck as his hands curled back around as well, beginning to tug at the button and zipper of Ian's jeans. The taller man pressed his hips forward as he grasped the firm, round muscles of the other's ass once more, causing Mickey to move his hands quicker, rushing to unlatch the fastening within the denim. Their teeth began to clash through their kiss, both filled with overwhelming anticipation that simply needed to be released, before finally the dark haired man undid the redhead's pants, pulling them open wide and urging them down as he grasped tightly at the pair of boxers covering him within. 

Mickey broke their kiss to drop his eyes to his hands, sliding his tongue back across his lip and over his peircing as he grasped a hold of the hard, heavy cock between Ian's legs and pulled it out of his clothing. He fist immediately fell into a quick, steady pump as Mickey eyes trailed slowly up over his body, seeming to enjoy the way his muscles began to tense and flex with arousal before finally landing back on his face. The redhead's lips parted as he moaned in a muted melody, gazing right back at him, then dropped his sight to bring a hand around toward the other man's abs and pulled his shirt up some, just wanting to see more of him. But Mickey seemed to understand, his own hand roaming back over Ian's abs as well as his other tugged and pulled at the hot, full girth a bit lower on his body. He kept his grasp on the redhead's cock and held his pace as he leaned back just enough to reach over his shoulder with the other to pull his shirt over his head, then dropped it atop Ian's on the ground. 

Ian licked his lips and let himself look, then reached out to touch him, wanting to trace and memorize every single cut and crease of his chest, before tipping his head back to moan a bit louder into the blare, overtaken by the way Mickey's fist worked his cock with such skill. The dark haired man held a glossy, pleased expression, then leaned forward to suck a deep purple mark into Ian's chest just above his nipple ring, before moving a bit lower to flick the piercing wetly with his tongue, then sucked it between his teeth.

The redhead moaned again which Mickey felt rumble and purr within his chest, making him bite down and twist his tongue back over the barbell fastened within the tender spot of flesh before releasing his mouth and sinking his teeth into the flesh of Ian's pec once more instead. The taller man gripped his hands around the other's ass once more in response, then circled a single palm back around him to rub the hardened cock in Mickey's pants. The dark haired man let him, moaning into another bite of flesh before covering it with a soft, humming kiss, then connected their eyes for only an instant as he moved a bit lower, sliding Ian's hand away. 

Ian watched him as he trailed more rough, wet puckers down over his ribs, then speckled them across his abs as the man slowly sank down to his knees within the grass. Mickey didn't hesitate or pause, not even taking a single extra second to glance around before he stuck out his tongue, leaned forward toward his still-stroking fist and slid it over the head of Ian's cock with a burning, anxious craving, exhaling needingly as he did. The redhead knitted his brow, and lifted his face for only an instant, feeling the need to make sure they weren't being watched, then dropped it again to observe the man in front of him open his mouth wider and take more of him in.

"Fuck," Ian breathed, even though he knew Mickey still couldn't hear him, just completely unable from stopping it before it slipped out. 

The vibrations from the speakers and the stage against his back continued to radiate through his body, through his limbs, now even beginning to feel it form and rise within the hot, slick mouth of the man in front of him, like his tongue and throat were vibrating too. He tried to plant his feet and steady his legs better as the sensation grew stronger and began weakening his knees quite fast. But Ian really wanted to enjoy this, wanted it to last, so he tried his best to focus, swallowing each and every moan and groan that rolled back up from his chest, but couldn't resist reaching a single hand down to lace his fingers through Mickey's hair. 

The dark haired man raised his sight at the contact, seeing the blown expression on the other man's face and suddenly seemed glued to the sight, wanting to watch Ian just as much as Ian wanted to watch him. The redhead curled his fingers into a firmer grasp, but didn't push or force, completely content with the pace the other man had set. Mickey hallowed his cheeks, and stared up into his face as he sunk his throat down on Ian's cock, watching as he hissed, moaned and trembled from the action. The sight of Ian's pleasure seemed to drive him some, causing him to suck a bit more firmly and sped up just a little, reaching down to grasp the straining budge between his legs as he hummed and moaned around the redhead's girth, flaring the steady vibrations still dancing along his tongue. 

Mickey stood up a bit straighter on his knees for a moment, but his sight didn't stray, still fixed to the deeply lustful expression of the man above him as he unbuttoned his own pants, pulled out his cock and sat back down to stroke it as he sucked Ian off. The redhead felt his mouth water as he watched Mickey very openly pleasure himself and blew Ian with everything he had, as if the sight and act itself were completely enough for him right now, like he genuinely enjoyed doing it just for the sake of getting to watch the other man get off from it. Ian had never been more turned on by anyone else before than he was right now, watching the bright blue gaze at his hips watch him right back, hooding heavily as pushed the redhead's cock into the back of his throat over and over again with an urging clench and swallow. 

Ian's fingers curled against the other man's scalp once more, which seemed to urge him on as well, sucking harder and curling his free hand around to the back of his thigh with a grasp as the hand on his own cock pumped faster from the silent praise. Every once in a while, the dark haired man would let his sight travel just the slightest little bit, back over the curves and creases of the other's body as his breath hitched with pleasure, before moving back up to settle upon his face once more, seemingly still drawn to the sight, like he didn't want to miss even the slightest change. The redhead raised his other hand to weave through Mickey's hair as well before moving lower to stroke the pad of his thumb along his temple, then wrapped it around the side of his jaw, wanting to feel the way the thick hard shaft of his cock slid and slicked over Mickey's tongue from behind his cheek. 

"Fuck," he mumbled out again over the smallest hitch of breath, unsure how much longer he was going to last as his intensity grew ever stronger. 

Then Mickey squeezed his grasp tighter around Ian's leg and began to pull just a bit, trying to coax some movement out him and meet each suck with a thrust. Ian's brow crinkled deeply as his teeth sunk sharply into his lower lip and slowly, gently, he began to roll his hips and let Mickey set him into a pace he was comfortable with. He didn't want to go too hard or push too much, not wanting to hurt or gag him, knowing full well that a cock the size of his own was more than capable of that. 

But Mickey didn't seem hesitant in the slightest, quickly pulling him into deep, steady motion that seemed to make his other hand stroke faster, very clearly enjoying the size and weight of the other man atop his tongue and pushing into the back of his throat. Before long, he even slowed some before pausing at a single angle, but kept Ian moving, simply letting him fuck his mouth and that's what really seemed to make them both struggle not to fall right over the edge.

The dark haired man's eyes practically rolled back in his head, then finally fluttered closed as he let the redhead take control, gripping a bit more tightly around Ian's thigh and digging his fingernails back into his flesh, relishing the sensation of every snap and thrust of his hips. Ian gripped back with one hand tangled within the pitch atop his head, while the other slid down under his chin to hold Mickey's jaw in place. He tipped his own head back and let another loud and very unabashed moan pour from his lips, knowing no one could hear him anyway and tried to keep moving through the rush of sparks tingling within his balls that threatened to shoot out through the end of his cock. 

He dropped his sight back to the man on his knees at his feet, his lips parting with a pant, feeling the burst of release beginning to rise within his loins and noticed Mickey seemed to be close as well, seeing the way he twisted his wrist and pumped his palm firmly over his cock without shame. Ian rubbed the pad of his thumb along the edge of the other man's jaw, then gave him a light tap with his forefinger, just trying to give him fair warning that it was coming. The redhead saw Mickey's eyes flash back open at the contact, then felt him hum again just before he pulled his mouth back some to give a much harder suck over the head of Ian's cock, rolling his neck into a circle before sinking back down with a swallow. 

Ian just stared, wishing he could control himself for longer, but he couldn't, not while he was watching and feeling Mickey perform such an overwhelmingly incredible act on him, seeing the determination and vigor in his movements and the heavy, hazy gaze that glimmered up from the deep, bold blues of his eyes. He was fucking perfect. Then Ian's head tipped back again as he felt his balls pull tight and push the rippling wave of euphoria up from their simmer to burst from the tip of his cock, thrusting his hips forward to spill into Mickey's mouth, lights flashing behind his eyes. 

As the dark haired man swallowed around him and held Ian's cock deep behind his tongue, his mouth vibrated through another humming moan and he closed his eyes again, almost instantly beginning to spill his own hot spurts of orgasm into the grass between his knees. Ian didn't know for sure, but it seemed as if making the redhead cum was all he really needed to cum himself, the thought causing him to stutter his hips a bit as Mickey sucked down the last of his load. There was something quite luring about that particular aspect of the other man that Ian just found extremely hot and he secretly couldn't wait to see more of it. 

Mickey slowly moved his mouth around him with a few final, gentle sucks, then pulled his face back to let the redhead's still half hard cock fall from his mouth, licking his lips as he gazed back up him. Ian leaned back a bit further into the stage, his breath still heavy as he tried to level it out, winded, impressed and still lingering with the speckling trickles of lust along his pores. The dark haired man held his sight on him as they both slowly moved their hands toward their buttons and zippers to tuck themselves back away, then shot him a smooth, sharp smirk, appearing well satisfied from their encounter. Ian mirrored his expression as Mickey rose from his knees, grabbing both their shirts as they did, but paused before moving to pass Ian his or out on his own, his sight still trailing lightly over his face with a soft, sparkling gaze.

He ran his tongue back across his lip, shining the ring within it, then looked toward Ian's lips for an instant, before he split a smirk, arched his eyebrow and stepped back into his space to kiss him again, reaching a single hand up to grasp the back of his neck. The other man kissed him back, grasping a hand lightly within the back of his hair in a similar fashion, parting his lips to welcome Mickey's tongue and embrace him more deeply, simply growing addicted to his flavor and enjoying even more the hint of salty tang left over from the man's sinful deed. 

Mickey pulled his face back just enough to smirk again, letting his eyes flicker briefly between the deep set of greens of the redhead's gaze, then licked his lips, sucked his lower one into his mouth, then leaned forward to speak right into Ian's ear, where he knew he would hear him. 

"I fuckin' love the way you taste," he confessed in a deep, seductive tone, as if he'd read the other man's mind. 

Mickey let a single hand trail down over Ian's abs as he spoke, then curled around his hip, leaning back once more to meet his eyes again, his expression of genuine appeal, honest and unwavering. The other man heard him clearly, the words sending a bolt of shivery little sparks back down his legs and bit his lip as he stared right back with a mirrored feeling of attraction, feeling like he was beginning to love every single thing about this man. 

Then the shorter man took a step back, flashed him another sharp, handsome smirk and pulled his shirt back over his head, tossing the redhead's over to him. Ian very openly watched him dress, still just wanting to stare at him for as long as he could, before moving to put his own on when Mickey caught him in his pause and very clearly laughed, gesturing to his shirt to remind him he should. The redhead smiled back at him, feeling no shame at all, then followed the other man back the way they'd came, tracing along the back of the stage, the boom of bass still punching violently through their ears and re-immersed within the hoard.

They wandered through the blanketing crowd for a bit, well away from the clashing moshes, but gradually moved closer as both men began to get drawn into the music, exchanging a mutually intrigued smirk and pushed deeper to get closer to the stage. The pair seemed to have arrived during a rather fast, heavy tune that raged the crowd below the band and churned it with more force. Both began to bounce, jump and mangle within the rest, still careful not to end up too far apart, even reaching for each other a few times to yank the other back over beside them. 

Then Mickey grabbed Ian's hand, and led him through a thicker twist of bodies, shoving about roughly to push through them and force themselves through a nonexistent path. The redhead kept hold of him, but arched his body up with a curious brow to see where he was being led, when he saw them closing the distance on a rather brutal looking mosh pit and grasped Mickey's hand with hesitation, pulling back a bit. The dark haired man turned with a hard, confused crease in his brow, but met the other man's eyes and paused all the same, shooting him a questioning expression. 

"The fuck is it, man?" asked Mickey as they struggled to stand in one place with other bodies continuing to shift and jump around them, raising his voice some to be heard over the music. 

"Where're we going?" Ian queried back in the same mild holler, even though he was already pretty certain of the answer. Mickey arched an eyebrow, then laughed as he spoke in a very obvious tone and pointed with his thumb. 

"Into the pit," he replied, like it was no big deal at all, but Ian still hesitated despite the other man's calm demeanor. 

The redhead flashed his sight past Mickey into the direction he'd been leading him, seeing a man within the mosh narrowly recover from a jolting shove that'd nearly sent him hurling into the ground underfoot, then pressed his lips together and looked back into his face. 

"I've never moshed before," admitted Ian, trying to explain a bit of his resistance, even if it meant swallowing a bit of his pride. However Mickey didn't appear to judge him for it, though he still lightly pushed, just a little bit. 

"Everybody's gotta fuckin' start somewhere," Mickey smirked with a head cock, then looked him over with a smooth expression when the redhead still didn't appear too eager to move. 

"Ian," he said firmly, but still friendly, "You're bigger than I fuckin' am, man," informed Mickey, his gaze laced with the very same admiration and appeal at the fact that it always was, then chuckled and gestured back toward the pit once more, "I've even seen fuckin' chicks in there before," he added with a high raise of his brows, "You ain't got shit to fuckin' worry about, man," Mickey assured with a smile. 

The redhead chewed his lip and shifted his feet, but still wasn't too sure. It's not that Ian was afraid to follow the other man into the rough, shoving tangle of people, but was definitely a little intimidated, not very confident in himself either, unsure if he'd be able to hold his own, let alone simply keep his footing to stay upright within the clash. He knew he was strong, resilient and was able to be fairly quick on his feet, but he also didn't want to make a fool of himself in front of Mickey by having some sort of slip up. He looked past him once more, pressing his lips back together in the same fashion, then let his eyes fall again, too embarrassed to find the words. But still, the other man didn't look disappointed exactly, instead appearing quite understanding, then simply shrugged. 

"Aye, if you don't wanna fuckin' jump in the pit with me, it's cool, man," said Mickey, though it really didn't lessen the shame the redhead felt swelling in his chest, "I ain't gonna fuckin' hold it against ya," he assured, then split a cocky grin and bore a jokingly humored tone, "For long," he added playfully.

Ian exhaled through his nose, feeling disappointed with himself, then watched as Mickey still held a very light demeanor as he flashed him a final smile, turned back around and weaved his way through the other bodies to join the mosh. He saw the man push through a few others, seeing him split a rather competitive grin, then jumped right in to slam shoulders and ram elbows with all the rest. The redhead kept his eyes on him until his split of sight began to close, then pressed forward to get closer, unwilling to let himself give up just yet, nearing the pit and observing as best he could.

Mickey looked like he was just having a great fucking time, bouncing around, twisting about as he shoved people into others and throwing himself back harder when people came charging, trying to force him back. He had to be one of the shortest men within the mangle, but it didn't seem to make much difference, quickly and easily dominating the whole space, just as he had when Ian had watched him before and he actually made it look like it might be fun. 

Ian grinned wide as he watched him, only one layer of people between him and the mosh pit, trying to stay up as the people in front of him acted as a human wall and shoved the moshers back together when they had a body thrown their way. Then his expression dropped a bit, debating with himself again, wanting to join in, but refrained by a rush of nerves. But the longer he watched, the more he seemed to work himself up, slowly gathering his courage enough for him try. 'I jumped off a fucking cliff yesterday,' he reminded himself with a silent scoff, then furrowed his brow with determination and narrowed his eyes, before he took a deep breath, shoving through the people in front of him and jumped into the pit as well.

The instant Ian entered the clash, all his senses shot up and he immediately moved to jump back into the first body he saw coming at him, smashing them roughly with his shoulder, then twisted further within the mess of other violent moshers. At first everything was really fast and he just kept moving, trying not to lose his footing within the mud below him, before he really started to look up at the faces around him. When he did, he instantly found Mickey who was already looking right back at him with a rather impressed expression, perhaps having seen him the very second he'd joined. Ian couldn't help but smile when their eyes met, and the other man just smiled right back, each now keeping good track of the other as they smashed other people about. It actually was turning out to be sorta fun.

Ian started paying more mind to the others around him as well, sure to stay alert among the half a dozen men or so that that were moshing along with them, then seemed to notice one in particular. There was a man with his shirt off and a body covered in ink, a large bull ring in his septum and short, green hair on his head that was spiked up high. He was around Ian's size, easily one of the larger men within the mix and because of this he seemed to notice Ian too, something the redhead realized very quickly. 

Each time the man had the slightest chance to charge through the pit, he'd twist around, turn his body and swing himself in Ian's direction, pointing an elbow or aiming with a shoulder in an attempt to throw him off balance. For the most part, the redhead would simply twist around himself and dart away, leaving the other man to bounce off another body instead. But a few times, Ian had no slip to maneuver through, forcing him to brace himself, run at the man as well and shove right back. 

At first Ian wasn't too bothered, hardly concerned at all, but the guy wouldn't let up and it was really starting to piss him off. Mickey seemed to notice too, even trying to shift the guy's attention at one point, ramming himself right into him in an attempt to throw him from the circle, but the man stayed relentless in his efforts to throw the redhead out first. Then what happened next, all went very fast and the instant it did, Ian wasn't entirely sure what'd just occurred at all. 

As Ian moved back through the tangle, bouncing off a few more bodies and away from the green haired man, he moved past Mickey, and was pushed back again. When he turned his head, his eyes landed on the persistently aggressive stranger once again, just before he saw him raise an elbow with a hard, sharp lunge toward his face. He had hardly an instant to turn away, but he felt the impact go pounding through the side of his head, crashing into his temple, making his ears suddenly ring and his vision go fuzzy. The redhead slipped in the mud and started going down, but felt a shove to his chest, pushing him back into the surrounding surge of bodies to catch him. Ian blinked hard, his eyes fluttering open in confusion, hazy, blurry vision intensifying as a pound immediately arose from the point of contact. Then he saw a flash move past him, the same flash that shoved him back so he wouldn't fall, a flash of Mickey bearing a raging face and a raised fist, shooting right past him with an angry, burning fury and bolted straight for Ian's attacker. 

The redhead brought a hand to his head, his feet still unable to properly find their place on the ground, just letting the arms of strangers pull him backward and out of the pit, before he suddenly heard a familiar voice speaking to him and a new grasp beneath his arms, trying to hold him up better as he moved. 

"Jesus fuckin' Christ, are you alright, man?" Mickey asked, taking control of their direction, so others began to let him go, still walking them backward and out of the crowd, "Stupid fuckin' prick takin' fuckin' cheap shots," he scoffed, then tried to meet his eyes, "I knocked that fucker sideways though," said Mickey with a bit of satisfaction in his tone, trying to smirk at the man in his grasp, then let his attempt fade a bit as he looked him over more.

Ian was still just stumbling, blinking a few more times as his head started to feel light, all his thoughts becoming drowned out by the pound and he couldn't really answer. He tried to look into Mickey's face, but everything just started to fade and feel really far away. The dark haired man wrapped both arms around him better, trying to read his face, his own quickly growing quite concerned. 

"Ian?" he asked, "Talk to me, man," Mickey urged, trying again to get something in response. 

But they only made it a few more steps, nearing the very edge of the mob when Ian's legs began to give out, his pulse clouded his brain and he stumbled again, unable to stay up. 

"Aye, aye!" he heard Mickey call out, tightening his grasp around his body as he tried to catch him, but after that everything just went blank.

Ian didn't know how much time had passed when he finally stirred with not much more than a dull, nagging ache in his brain and a rather bad case of cotton mouth. He scrunched his face up with a small groan and reached to pinch the bridge of his nose, before slowly opening his eyes, his vision a little foggy still. The creak of the cot beneath him whined and caused the body seated beside it to suddenly turn and let out a rather relieved sounding exhale. 

"Aye," came a voice that sounded like music to his ears. 

He rubbed his eyes with a single hand, then turned his head to see Mickey's handsome face smiling down at him. Even though Ian was pretty confused, he still managed a small smile back, which only seemed to brighten the other man's mood even more. 

"'Bout fuckin' time, man," said Mickey with an arched brow and a light expression, "I was startin' to fuckin' wonder how long this fuckin' beauty nap a yours was gonna take," he grinned sarcastically, letting his eyes fondly trace over his face, like he really was happy to see the redhead awake again, and honestly, Ian was happy to see him too.

The dark haired man turned toward him more, reached a hand over to comb bright, red strands back away from the other man's eyes, then softly rubbed the pad of his thumb over the small, tender spot atop Ian's temple. 

"How ya fuckin' feelin'?" Mickey queried as he withdrew his hand. The other man held a small smile from the gesture, then reached to rub his own head as well. 

"Kinda shitty," replied Ian, then groaned a bit as he moved to sit up, "Not too fucking bad though, I guess," he said, then creased his brow some. 

Ian now saw that the tent they were in had other cots with other bodies occupying them, with a standing woman nearby, hovering over a few before pausing to check on one in particular, the whole space appearing to be some type of medical recuperation station or something of the sort. But his current surroundings only perplexed him further, knowing the last thing he remembered was being out in the middle of the festival with Mickey, nowhere near any tents or booths, causing him to look back at the man still seated beside him.

"You carry me here or some shit?" Ian asked curiously. The dark haired man split a smirk, gave a nod, then shrugged. 

"The fuck else you expect me to do, man?" Mickey asked back, sounding like the answer was completely obvious, "Leave ya in the fuckin' mud?" he queried with a chuckle, then drew his eyebrows together, "That the kinda dude you fuckin' take me for?" he grinned.

Ian chuckled back, just trying not to feel embarrassed again, but instead just feel grateful, especially because the other man genuinely didn't seem to judge him for anything that'd happened. He rubbed his head once more, then dropped his hand and squinted down at his watch.

"How fucking long was I out?" Ian wondered aloud, "And what the fuck happened?" he queried further, the other man offering another shrug. 

"Little over a fuckin' hour," replied Mickey, tilting his head, "Not too fuckin' long," he said, then raised a questioning eyebrow, "You remember that asshole from the fuckin' pit though, right?" he asked and Ian nodded, "Yeah, well, I guess the motherfucker just clocked ya with his elbow a little too fuckin' hard," continued Mickey, appearing as if the fact still really pissed him off, then smoothed out his face a bit, "But the fuckin' nurse chick in here said she don't think ya got a fuckin' concussion or nothin' like that. Asshole just fuckin' stunned ya, I guess," he explained with a very non-judgemental shrug, then raised his brow, "Apparently your big, red ass is a little fuckin' dehydrated though too," Mickey informed him with a smirk, then reached for something near his feet, lifting it up. 

"So, I hit a fuckin' vendor's booth and picked up this fuckin' monster," he said holding up a giant, green water bottle with a small belt latch clipped into it's side, and Ian just smiled again at how thoughtful Mickey was, surprised that he'd put in so much effort into trying to help him, then laughed with a chin tip. 

"That thing is fucking gigantic," Ian observed, causing the other man to laugh as well and give a firm nod.

"Damn fuckin' straight, man," Mickey agreed, "Gotta make sure some bullshit like that don't fuckin' happen again," he said, then twisted open it's cap, "So, drink the fuck up," he directed as he held the bottle out in offering.

Ian exhaled lightly, already feeling better and ignored his slowly dispersing headache as he accepted and downed a long, cool gulp of water. The dark haired man thumbed his lip as he watched him drink, then leaned a little closer to him, speaking in a lower voice.

"Aye, uh, you know I was just fuckin' givin' ya shit before, right?" asked Mickey with a soft, expression, "You didn't have to fuckin' jump in if ya didn't fuckin' want to," he assured, then smirked slightly with a pointed brow, "You sure can take a fuckin' hit though, man," Mickey praised with compliment, chuckling a bit. Ian gave a nod of acknowledgement, then chuckled as well with a shrug, really not blaming the man at all. 

"Everybody has to fucking start somewhere," Ian replied, mimicking the man's own words back at him, earning him another grin and laugh from Mickey in return. 

He finished his drink, handed it back, then rubbed a palm down his face as he turned more completely to place his feet on the ground, his eyes landing on his backpack propped up against the cot. The redhead creased his brow with a deep confusion, knowing he hadn't had it with him since they'd descended from the tree earlier in the day. He raised his sight back Mickey who was beginning to rise from his seat. 

"Why is this here?" asked Ian. Mickey met his eyes, dropped them to the bag in question, then chewed his lip a bit as he looked back into his face. 

"When I uh, first fuckin' brought ya in and told the nurse what happened, she started asking me a bunch of other fuckin' questions," Mickey began, then scratched his nose and upturned a palm, "If you'd been drinkin' or takin' any fuckin' drugs," he elaborated, then seemed to hesitate a bit before he spoke again, "Asked if you take any fuckin' medication," Mickey added, causing the redhead to swallow an intense wave of discomfort, "I told her yeah, but I didn't fuckin' know what," he said, then chewed his lip once more and gestured down toward the pack on the ground, "So, I uh, ran back out to my van and grabbed your shit," explained Mickey, his tone careful, as if he wasn't quite sure if his actions would upset the other man or not, "Ya know, so she could fuckin' check 'em or whatever, in case your fuckin' medicine had anything to do with it," he said, then rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged again, "She said it probably fuckin' didn't though," he added finally. 

Ian stayed quiet for a moment and swallowed again, the embarrassment he'd felt earlier coming back with a much more powerful and unrelenting force than before, suddenly wanting nothing more than to just fucking disappear. Mickey has seen his medications and knew what they were, knowing himself that out-of-context they probably appeared much more menacing than they actually were: a mood stabilizer and an anti-psychotic. But still he'd seen them and now he probably thinks Ian was some kind of nut job psychopath who wants to wear his skin and eat his liver. 

'Fuck,' his mind hissed shakily from a flicker behind his eyes. This wasn't how he'd wanted this to happen, not at all. He knew he was going to have this conversation with Mickey eventually, but he didn't want to be forced into it this way. The redhead looked away from him at a loss for words and shifted his feet around within the grass, trying to think of something to say, then looked back up to part his lips when his words were suddenly interrupted. 

"Ian, the fuck are you doing in here?" 

He turned his face away from Mickey, who twisted his body around to look as well with a hard raised eyebrow, both their sights landing on Ian's co-worker Jesse, sporting a torn shirt, a bloodied lip and Sarah on his arm, looking him over as if he'd recently done something that'd embarrassed her. The man looked confused to see his friend there, but smiled in greeting regardless as he began making steps over to him and his unknown companion. The dark haired man shot Ian a questioning glance and Ian just shook his head a bit, vaguely waving Jesse off as he stood to greet him as well. Jesse approached, looking Ian over somewhat, as if searching for whatever injury may have brought him here, only looking at Mickey for a brief second before Ian answered him. 

"Just a little dehydrated, I guess," Ian responded, trying to ignore the discomfort he still felt from what he knew he'd eventually have to speak with Mickey about and just set his focus elsewhere for now, "Almost ate mud in a fucking mosh pit too," he added, to which the other man raised his eyebrows and pushed out his bloodied lip, "Some asshole really tried to fuck me up in there," said Ian.

"I got the shithead back pretty fuckin' good though, I think," Mickey added suddenly as he crossed his arms over his chest, turning the sights of both the redhead's traveling companions on him more directly. Jesse gave him a simple, sweeping glance, then gave a friendly chin tip in response, before looking back at his redheaded co-worker for an introduction. Ian turned to the man beside him first, gesturing a hand between the couple at his other side. 

"Oh, uh, this is my buddy Jesse," offered Ian, "And his girlfriend, Sarah," he pointed, the woman offering a very fake smile in response, clearly still unhappy with her boyfriend in the current moment, her eyes rolling back over to him with a glare. Ian pressed his lips together as Jesse ignored her gaze, then looked back at the dark haired, blue eyed man that still stood in wait. 

"And this is my-" Ian began, then paused with wide eyes the instant he realized what he was saying, not entirely sure what he was saying at all. 

Mickey raised his eyebrows and slowly turned his face, appearing to fight down quite the surprised, yet very amused grin, watching quite expectantly, waiting to see just how exactly he was going to recover from that. The redhead turned his face a bit, seeing him not appear at all bothered, and for a moment didn't feel quite so nervous anymore, even letting himself split a small smile. 

"Mickey," he finished simply, letting his sight linger. Then he blinked himself back into reality, suddenly remembering what he was doing and looked away to address Jesse again. 

"But yeah," Ian tried to continue and not feel at all awkward about his stare, "I was knocked the fuck out for a bit there," he said, causing Jesse to look surprised and concerned, listening quite intently to what his friend was telling him. The redhead glanced back toward the dark haired man and looked him over rather fondly once more, feeling no shame this time.

"Mickey fucking got me here though," he said with a tip of his chin, "If it weren't for him I'd probably be trampled in the fucking mud somewhere," Ian added, still very appreciative for the other man's assistance, knowing full well he hadn't been mandated to do anything of the sort. It really meant a lot to Ian, even if it had also exposed him a bit. That wasn't Mickey's fault anyway. Jesse looked back at Mickey as well and smiled with a few teeth slicked red from his lip, but appeared genuine all the same. 

"Hey, good fucking lookin', man," thanked Jesse, then tipped his head toward Ian, "I appreciate you lookin' out for him," he said with a nod in his words, "Ian's a cool fucking dude, man," Jesse added, sounding as if he may have had just a little bit to drink already today, though he wasn't quite drunk, just gleeful and friendly, "He'll never do ya fucking wrong," he assured. The redhead creased his brow some at his friend's little speech and cocked his head with a chuckle. 

"Um, yeah," said Ian, "Thanks for that Jesse," he nodded, the dark haired man beside him chuckling from behind a fist. Ian reached a hand out as his co-worker suddenly swayed a bit, grasping his shoulder as Sarah kept her arms around his waist and looked him over as well. 

"What the fuck happened to you though?" Ian queried, eyeing the blood still very openly trailing from the middle of his lower lip, which Jesse pointed at with an eye roll.

"Sarah's asshole brother," he replied, which the woman clutched onto his side clearly frowned at, then laughed a bit, "Apparently that douchebag can swing a little better than I fucking thought," Jesse quipped with a bloody grin and Ian nearly snorted through his nose, shaking his head, "I think he ended up looking fucking worse though," he added with a shrug. 

"I'm sure," Ian replied with a sarcastic tip of agreement, but Jesse just flipped him off and widened his eyes. 

"He did," Jesse insisted, "Got all my fucking money back too. So, what's that fucking tell ya, huh?" he asked with a slight raise of his arms, just causing the man in front of him to chuckle some more. He then glanced down toward Sarah and flicked his head toward her, "Anyway, since this shit won't stop fucking bleeding, Sarah wanted me to get it checked out," he explained, "Even though it's just a busted fucking lip," Jesse added with a mild annoyance, but Sarah just glared at him again. 

"You might need stitches in that fucking thing, you idiot," the woman growled, causing her boyfriend to shake his head and roll his eyes again, which Mickey chuckled at, not at all hiding his amusement. Ian flashed him a glance, then looked back at his co-worker. 

"You know, she might be right," said Ian, then gestured toward the man's lip with his brow, "Probably should get that looked at," he agreed, but Jesse only narrowed his eyes some. 

"Oh, you're on her side then, huh?" Jesse shot back with a friendly snap, and the redhead just laughed again with another shake of his head, taking a step toward Mickey, reaching to swing his backpack over a single shoulder, then glanced toward the opening of the tent. 

"I'll catch you later, Jesse," offered Ian, the other man pursing his lips a bit, but didn't object to the redhead's departure, then pointed, "You're gonna feel that shit in the fucking morning though, man," he chuckled. Jesse shot him a very sarcastic grin in return, then gave a final chin tip as they parted and Ian moved to walk next to Mickey out of the medical tent and back outside.

As they walked this time, they both seemed to fall back into their normal posture for the most part, walking closely and Mickey even lit a cigarette to share with him, but neither really said too much. It was a strange feeling, being inside a place that bore absolutely so much noise, yet it just felt so quiet and silent now within the small space between them, isolated within their bubble once again. Ian kept trying to ignore to the nag that was dancing along his brain and poking at his eyes, dreading the inevitable, wanting to prolong the wait a little longer. He could feel the heavy lingering of something left unsaid, the lurking of questions unasked and really just didn't like it very much, searching for a brief distraction instead. The redhead glanced around some as he exhaled a plume of smoke and noticed a man within a nearby booth trading out beers by the bottle and pointed with his brow. 

"I could use a drink," said Ian. Mickey turned his face toward him, then dropped his eyes to the rather large water bottle clasped to his hip and began to unlatch it. 

"Want some a this shit?" he offered back, but the redhead declined with a head shake. 

"Beer sounds better," Ian countered with a grin and a flick of his head. 

Mickey smirked in return, but then he thumbed his lip a bit and seemed to hesitate some as deep blue eyes scanned studyingly over his features. He then arched a single, sharp brow and cocked his head to the side. 

"You sure you wanna start drinkin' again so fuckin' soon?" queried Mickey, letting the bottle slip back out of his grasp, then shrugged slightly, "We could wait a little fuckin' while, if ya want?" he added, "Ain't no big deal, man," he said.

Ian's expression flickered just slightly and he blinked over the other man's face, knowing he meant no offense, but he still couldn't help but feel a little defensive anyway. He knew Mickey was just trying to be considerate, trying to be understanding, but it also just made him feel sort of pitiful and didn't want to be seen as someone who couldn't handle his own. The redhead tried to keep his tone friendly, but the words still came out a little stiff. 

"It's just a fucking beer, Mickey," Ian replied, managing a smirk, trying to show the man that it was really no big deal, "I'll be fine," he promised. Mickey slicked the tip of his tongue across his lip, seeming to think for another second like he wanted to be sure, but didn't push it. 

"Alright," Mickey conceded, then gave a point toward the other man's shoulder, "Lemme see your fuckin' pack for a sec then, eh?" he requested lightly. Ian creased his brow with question as he slowly slid it from his arm to hold over where Mickey access it. 

"What for?" Ian asked, but his question was instantly answered when the other man unzipped the main pouch of his pack and pulled out a large zip lock bag filled with big, bushy buds of weed alongside a few tightly rolled joints ready to smoke. Mickey glanced toward the trader across the way as he extracted a single joint, wrapped the bag back up and zipped the pack closed. 

"Gonna fuckin' see how many bottles this dude'll trade for some fuckin' smoke," replied Mickey, then looked over at the redhead with a smirk, "I got a whole fuckin' brick a the shit back in my van, remember?" he reminded, "I got fuckin' plenty for trade, man." 

Ian nodded, recognizing that the other man honestly didn't seem to be acting any differently toward him right now and figured he'd try to relax, just like Mickey seemed to be trying to, easy, smooth and loose. 'Chill the fuck out,' he thought to himself, and straightened his shoulders to conceal it as he swung his pack back over his left one and set his sights on the booth. 

"Let's go see then," the redhead offered to which the other man gave a single nod in return and they moved to get in line.

Thankfully, it moved quickly, approaching an older man with a bald head and a long apple-colored beard who had an assortment of beer cases and cigarette cartons displayed about behind him. The pair paused in front him, looking over his wares, when Mickey saw a particular brand he seemed to like and offered up his paper-woven bud. 

"Six pack for a J?" Mickey offered with a point toward a small collection of tall, green bottles, arching an eyebrow with a confident expression. The old trader squinted at the joint between the younger man's fingers and let out a chuckle. 

"Only one?" the older man queried, sounding as if he thought the offer a joke, but Mickey only cocked his head, held his stance and offered it once more. 

"This one toke is worth a whole fuckin' case a anythin' you got, Gramps," he assured, causing the trader to drop his sight back down to it with a curious expression. 

Mickey held it out a bit futher, letting the older man take it to look it over better and when he raised it to his nose to take a long, sharp whisp of it's aroma packed beneath it's wrap, he blinked a few times with surprise, stared down at it with wide eyes, then smiled back up at him. 

"Deal," the old man grinned, earning him mirroring expressions from the two younger men in front of him. 

He tucked the joint behind his ear, turned toward the booze Mickey had pointed out and offered over a six pack, their glasses clinking together as the man passed it over with a skinny, bony hand. They happily took their beers, offered small gestures of thanks, then smiled back over at each other as they walked away from the booth together to find somewhere to drink.

They ended up passing back through the path and the sky began to dim as late afternoon turned into early evening, walking back toward Mickey's van for a while, finding it the easiest place to settle at the moment. They swung the doors wide and sat within the arch, legs hanging down from the vehicle to swing loosely within the grass and cracked open their beers.

As Ian began to sip on the spout of his bottle, he kept subtly looking over, peering so very intently into the side of Mickey's face, wanting so badly to work up the nerve to finally talk to him about what was still weighing on his mind. He knew that if the man really wanted anything at all to do with him on a more personal level, to stay connected after this was all over, it was something he'd have to know about him anyway. It was part of him. 

The redhead chewed the inside of his cheek as he took a larger swallow of his beer and looked away, still feeling a bit disappointed in himself for other things as well. He really had wanted to try moshing, especially because the other man had made it look like so much fun, watching him have such a great time clashing around with others. And perhaps had there not been some unfortunate asshole in the mix that was only there to try and fuck others up, maybe he would have done better, held up longer, been less of a fucking glass jaw. He felt like he'd kinda ruined their afternoon and that just fucking sucked, really just wanting to apologize for it more than anything else.

Ian drew his brows together, nodding to himself thinking he'd try and start there, that perhaps that'd be easiest. He looked back at Mickey, watching him take a long smooth swig of his own beer, then happened to feel his gaze, met his eyes and smiled lightly, easing the redhead's nerves exceptionally, pulling his own face into a smile as well. He then cleared his throat and went for it.

"I'm really fucking sorry about all that mosh pit bullshit," said Ian, then took a sip of his beer as combed his hair back with his fingertips, "Normally I don't go down so easy," he quipped, really hoping deep down the other man didn't think he was a pussy for what'd happened, "I really appreciate all your help though," Ian added, really wanting Mickey to know that, then chuckled and rubbed the tender, purpling bruise that'd formed just above his temple, concealed beneath his hairline, "Asshole got me fucking good," he cracked, earning him a chuckle and a nod in response. 

"Don't fuckin' worry about it, man," Mickey replied, sounding very easy and smooth in his words, "Sometimes shit just fuckin' happens," he said, his calmed tone of his voice leveling the redhead's nerves out even more, though he still met his eyes with a hint of hesitation and upturned a palm.

"Still kinda fucking embarrassing," Ian admitted a bit more quietly, but the other man simply looked back over at him quite flatly and titled his head.

"'Bout two fuckin' years ago, some dipshit motherfucker head-butted my ass right in the fuckin' nose," Mickey revealed, then pointed to a small, crooked scar at the top of his nose bridge, "Broke my shit," he said, "Blood fuckin' everywhere. He fucked me the fuck up, man," Mickey confessed, then took a long, soothing swallow from the dark, green bottle inside his fist, shrugging as it ran down his throat, "Some shitheads just like to do that kinda shit 'cause they think they can fuckin' get away with it," he informed him, sounding like he really despised people who did such things, then peered over to meet his eyes with a sure expression. 

"So I just try not to fuckin' let 'em," said Mickey with a smirk, "Which is why I fuckin' decked that asshole for ya," he reminded, "Hopefully it taught his ass a fuckin' lesson," Mickey chuckled, then shrugged and shook his head some, "I don't fuckin' hold it against ya one bit, man," he said with surety. Ian felt himself smile a bit, surprised but relieved once again, the other man smiling back like he'd really meant his words and tipped his chin.

"Thanks," said Ian. 

The dark haired man curled his tongue beneath his lip, wiggling the piercing within it, then switched his beer to his other hand so he could reach over instead to grasp Ian's leg in a rather warm, affectionate way. The redhead dropped his eyes to the contact and felt a hot, heavy rouge rise into his cheeks, smiling a bit wider from the gesture, then wrapped his own hand over Mickey's. This guy was pretty fucking amazing, and Ian couldn't stop thinking so as he met his gaze once more, unable to look away for very long.

Then the lurking dread crept back forward, making his guts twist over a cringe, now forcing himself to think of some place to start to get through the rest of it. He tried not to feel afraid, feel nervous, letting his gaze flicker back downward to rest upon their woven hands, finding a small bit more comfort at the sight. Mickey really was someone that was special to him, and the redhead knew how much he deserved an explanation, how much he needed one, like he owed it to him to share more of himself anyway. But Ian really truly just wasn't sure what to say, suddenly blurting out the first thing that came to mind. 

"I'm not like fucking crazy or anything either," Ian managed to push out into a cluttered jumble of syllables, "I just want you to know that, okay?" he said, sounding just as nervous and unsure as he felt, hoping he wasn't making himself appear crazy just by addressing it. But Mickey's reaction was simply that of confusion, screwing up his face slightly and pulling it back some, before raising a single, sharp eyebrow. 

"The fuck are you talkin' about?" queried Mickey, clearly looking for some sort of clarification or further context, but the redhead stumbled a bit in his response, piecing together a way to rephrase it. 

"I know you saw my meds," Ian elaborated slowly, "And I just don't want you to think I'm some sorta nut case," he continued, watching as the other man's brow held an unforgiving crease as he stayed silent, letting Ian say whatever he felt he had to, but his expression didn't change much. Mickey still just looked perplexed, but he still looked pretty open, willing to listen, trying to understand, causing Ian to exhale some and try one more time.

"You asked about them before and I didn't really say anything," said Ian searching the other man's eyes for the same trust and patience he'd shown him when they'd talked more personally earlier, finding it laced delicately into his irises with a sparkle within their blue and rubbed his thumb over Mickey's hand. 

"You told me that you wanted to know everything about me," Ian reminded softly, still feeling to very flattered and special of the fact and especially not taking it for granted now, "But you might not look at me the same after this," he warned, then flickered his eyes away just a bit, "No one ever really does," Ian added more quietly. He chewed his lip and blinked a few times, taking another breath as he looked back up. 

"But if you still wanna know everything," Ian offered, as difficult as it was, "I'll tell you now," he said. 

The redhead held his breath, a fresh rush of nerves threatening to overwhelm his senses, but calmed a bit when he felt the other man's palm flip over atop his knee to give his hand a squeeze and laced their fingers together. Mickey was looking over his face, his own features smoothed out once more and gave a small, sure nod. 

"I do, man," replied Mickey with certainty, "I wanna fuckin' know," he said, then raised his brow, "But you don't gotta tell me shit ya don't fuckin' want to, alright?" Mickey insisted, clearly wanting Ian to feel comfortable and not wanting to force him. 

Ian gave a brief expression of acceptance, then looked back down to their hands as their fingers twisted together. 'This is it,' he thought, knowing after this conversation it would all be different. He reached his free hand to rub his neck once more and combed his hair back again with a long, slow stratch.

"So, my uh mother has bipolar disorder," Ian began, struggling to remain strong and not over think the things he wanted to say, speaking with his hands a bit to distract his overactive brain, "It's like really bad mood swings mostly, highs and lows on really extreme scales," he elaborated, "Really fucking prone to delusions too, like actual fucking hallucinations that make her do crazy shit," Ian added, unable to look into his companion's face while he spoke for fear of seeing some sort of rejection already painted on his face, very obvious where this was going, then rubbed his neck once more, trying to will away another shiver of nerves. 

"And uh, shit's genetic, I guess, because I ended up with it too," the redhead concluded, feeling the overwhelming need to simply spit it out and get it over with, "The only one of my fucking siblings lucky enough to inherit that unique trait," he added, his voice laced in a very dry, hallow tone, then just sort of kept going like a faucet had suddenly been switched on, knowing there was no turning back now anyway, just letting it out.

"I was fortunate enough just to get the mood swings though, I guess, not the hallucinations," elaborated Ian, really feeling the need to be clear about that last part, then paused on a thought with a head cock, "Well, except once, but that was a long fucking time ago," he added, just trying to remain as honest as he could, "I've had shit regulated and under control for quite a while now though," Ian said with assurance, still focused on their hands, nodding as he spoke, but still not quite ready to look up just yet, pausing for a short moment as he rubbed Mickey's hand once more.

"But I'm not crazy," he repeated quietly, "I don't want you to think that I am," said Ian.

There was a long moment of silence as he kept his face down, but very obviously noticed that Mickey never made any attempt to withdraw his hand from Ian's nor did he even change his grip in the slightest, contently resting as it lay with no reaction at all. The redhead slowly raised his sight to the man beside him, seeing him simply looking back over at him completely unbothered by anything he'd shared with him, but clearly still thinking it over, taking it in. The dark haired man took a sip from his beer, then looked into Ian's face as he spoke. 

"My ma has fuckin' P.T.S.D.," Mickey said suddenly, catching the other man off guard, but swallowed again, refusing to crack under such circumstances, focusing completely on what was being said to him instead, "She like fuckin' developed the shit from my ol' man just treating her so fuckin' bad for so fuckin' long," he explained, then shrugged a bit and loosely waved his hand, "Don't think it makes her fuckin' crazy though," he said. 

"I mean, I know that shit ain't exactly the same fuckin' thing," Mickey added quickly, "But she still has to take fuckin' pills to like, level herself out every fuckin' day," he explained, then thumbed his lip slightly with thought, before offering a bit more, "The shit really fuckin' helps her though," said Mickey, like he truly believed it, "So, it's a good thing, right?" he asked rhetorically, surprising Ian even more than before, but he was still pretty skeptical. The dark haired man seemed to be able to tell, so he squeezed his hand again, leaned a little closer and looked at him very seriously. 

"It's fuckin' medicine, man," said Mickey, "I'm not gonna think you're fuckin' crazy for takin' medicine," he assured, "No matter what it's fuckin' for," he said. 

The redhead blinked within his growing speechlessness, just listening, amazed at every word that fell from his lips, each one washing away his unease and lingering along his skin. Mickey shrugged another shoulder, flickering blue eyes between green and really tried to be clear as he spoke. 

"Everyone has their fuckin' bullshit, man," he said with a head tilt, "What matters is how you fuckin' deal with it," Mickey informed him, then let his sight fall to trace over the other man's features in a very thoughtful way before he met his gaze again, "And from what I can tell so far, you're doin' pretty fuckin' good, man," he observed with a grin, "Better than a lotta assholes who got a lot fuckin' less to deal with," he said. 

Ian's breath slowed as he sat in disbelief, slowly processing words that he honestly hadn't expected to hear, because the words he usually heard during this conversation with others were usually much more harsh and belittling, but Mickey hadn't reacted that way at all. Not only was he not judgemental, but he was understanding, even able to relate in some way, striking Ian with jolt of shock and surprise, almost unsure he'd heard it all correctly. He looked away, back down to their hands yet again, trying to accept what Mickey had just told him, when the other man grasped his hand once more, causing him to peer back up.

"This shit been botherin' you this whole fuckin' time?" Mickey queried lowly. Ian simply offered a small, meek nod. 

"Whenever I tell anyone about it, shit always changes," replied Ian in the same low voice, "No one ever treats me the same way anymore," he said, "Like I have some kind of fucking affliction," Ian elaborated, scrunching his face with resentment, then gently moved his fingers between Mickey's, his features softening as he did, "I didn't want that to fucking happen with you," he explained, hoping he didn't sound completely pathetic.

But then he felt the faintest tickle of flutters appear in his throat, looking back up to see how Mickey's expression had changed, now bearing a slick smirk and soft, twinkling eyes. He then felt the other man's hand release from his own and reappear with a grasp at the back of his neck. Mickey pulled him closer, surprising the redhead yet again and planted a kiss on his lips that was quick, but with intent and feeling, smiling into it before he leaned his face back. Ian's lashes blinked with a flutter and he felt his cheeks blush bright pink. The dark haired man chuckled, kept his grasp upon his neck and let his thumb rub small, gentle circles into his skin. 

"Ian," said Mickey, his firm tone quite familiar from before, smirking sharply and arching a perfect eyebrow, "I fuckin' like you, man, in case you haven't fuckin' figured that out yet," he grinned and narrowed his eyes very seriously, "Like, I really, really fuckin' do," Mickey emphasized, blue eyes shimmering over his face like two precious crystals caught in the setting sunlight and Ian just couldn't breathe again.

"This shit don't fuckin' change that," he informed him with surety, then let his eyes look over his face a bit more, still gazing in the same tender way they always seemed to do, "So don't fuckin' doubt yourself," Mickey added, sounding completely honest and sincere in everything he said, then suddenly cocked his head with a smug expression. 

"And if you're just tryin' to fuckin' get rid a me, you're gonna have to do a lot fuckin' better than that, man," quipped Mickey, his grin widening, causing the other man to finally smile back, as if the other man's words were finally registering and tipped his chin, "You fuckin' forget we're from the same fuckin' side a town?" he queried, then scoffed with a confidently creased brow, "You should know just 'cause a that, I don't fuckin' scare easy," smirked Mickey, letting his hand fall away from the redhead's neck and land back on his leg, "I ain't fuckin' goin' nowhere, man," he promised.

All at once, every muscle inside Ian's body seemed to relax, all the tension simply melting away and he still almost couldn't believe his ears, but let the smile that pulled at his cheeks remain there regardless. He'd really been trying to prepare himself for pity, judgement, rejection, but instead Mickey had shown him none of that, seemingly accepting him as he was, for who he was, better than most anyone else ever had. Ian couldn't explain the level of gratitude he'd felt from the realization, almost wondering if perhaps he was dreaming, but hoping so very much that he wasn't. If there was anyone who ever existed anywhere at any point in time that could ever be described as perfect, it'd be Mickey, right here, right now, just as he was. He let himself just look once more as Mickey's eyes moved away from him to chug down his beer bottle, then belched into the air. 'Yep, he's fucking perfect alright,' Ian thought. 

The redhead raised his own bottle to his lips, downing his booze in much the same manner, then exhaled as he swallowed. He then reached for another bottle when Mickey stopped him and reached back behind him into the van instead. 

"Aye, uh, if you're feelin' fuckin' up for it," he began as he arched his back awkwardly and stretched out toward a small, concealed space inside, "We could hit some shit that's a little fuckin' stronger," Mickey offered as he pulled his arm back with a dark, brown bottle clutched inside his fist and set it atop his knee, holding it by the neck. He flashed a small smirking glance toward Ian who looked intrigued by the new bottle of booze, then shrugged again. 

"Only if you're up for it though," he repeated lightly. 

The other man held his smile, quite glad that Mickey wasn't going to treat or look at him any differently, speaking to him and gazing over at him in the very same manner he always did. Ian tipped his chin with a nod.

"Sure," Ian replied, knowing he'd been given the okay to party a bit without having to worry about it really affecting him too much, "Looks good," he added, gesturing toward the whiskey bottle and the dark haired man smiled with agreement. 

"It is," Mickey confirmed, then shifted some to unzip Ian's backpack and slip it away inside, "But we ain't fuckin' drinkin' it here," he added suddenly, causing the redhead to crease his brow a bit. 

"Where're we going now?" asked Ian, then chuckled with a head cock, "Behind another stage?" he quipped lightly, but the other man just chuckled return and shook his head. 

"Nah," said Mickey, then shot him another smirk beneath an admiring gaze, "Just this other fuckin' spot," he gave a flick of his head, standing to rise from the van, grabbing their remaining beers to take and drink as well, even pulling one out to crack open and drink along the way. He then arched his brow with a very smooth expression, looking back over at his redheaded companion who was now moving to rise as well. 

"Just gonna be you and me this time though, man," Mickey assured, letting his eyes trace over his face, down his neck and across his chest, then bit his lip lightly in appeal as he met his sight once more, "If that's fuckin' cool with you?" he queried. 

This time Ian didn't hesitate, wanting nothing more than to go absolutely anywhere Mickey wanted, as long as he got to go there with him. The redhead nodded easily as he readjusted his pack along his shoulders and moved to stand beside him as Mickey locked his van back up. 

"Definitely," Ian replied, "Anywhere you want," he said. 

Mickey curled his tongue beneath his lip with a grin stuck to his face, then gave a flick of his head toward another tree line that Ian had yet to pass through, directing them off on yet another little journey. 

"Come on then, man," Mickey urged, "I think you're really gonna fuckin' like this one," he predicted confidently, earning him another smile from his companion clearly feeling content and excited once again. 

Ian retrieved his cigarette pack from his jean pocket, then pulled a smoke to light with a deep, long inhale and blew the smoke up above his head, falling completely back into the same happily relaxed demeanor he bore earlier in the day, with nothing else in sight to tear him down. He then stayed close beside Mickey as he smoked his cigarette with a smile and followed him back into the woods.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AT LONG LAST, I HAVE AN UPDATE FOR YOU. :)  
> Sorry for the wait, LONG chapter here for you, with lots and lots of dialogue, but I do hope it will be interesting and worth the read. :)  
> Kind of an important chapter as there is way more Ian background as well as very long intimate scene between he and Mick. ;)  
> Hope you enjoy the new chapter! Please don't hesitate to share your thoughts with me! Feedback helps tremendously. :)  
> Here ya go with Chapter 8! :)

As they passed through the trees, both men stayed close beside each other, the dimming light above them trickling through the leaves with a softer, orange shine as the sun beyond the branches slowly began dipping closer toward the unseen horizon ahead. The redhead let himself smile a bit as he snuck more small glances at the dark haired man beside him, still just feeling so relieved and happy from their conversation a short bit ago, not nearly as pressured down with nerves as before. Ian really was quite grateful for that, more than he could express. 

They both stayed pretty quiet as they walked for a bit, but Mickey still flashed him the very same glances that Ian kept trying so very hard to be subtle in making himself, then took a swig from his beer and offered another over to Ian from the small collection of bottles in his hand. Ian held his expression on him for a moment, not quite moving to take one, still just admiring the way Mickey genuinely seemed to think no differently of him after their talk, seeing him suddenly arch a handsome, questioning eyebrow, to which the redhead finally accepted and slipped a bottle from the bundle to crack. 

The dark haired man watched him as he twisted the cap from it's spout, pushed it into his pocket, then tipped his head back to drink, seemingly a bit more focused on the way his throat flexed as he swallowed. Ian finished a gulp, grinned back at his companion, who looked him over quite fondly with soft eyes and thumb rub over his lip ring, before he sucked his lower lip between his teeth and looked away again. The redhead took another long swig, cooling the fizzle of flutters floating lightly inside his chest and looked back ahead as well. 

At first, Ian just kept wondering where it was that Mickey was taking him this time, even more curious than before since he had nothing else to go on this time. But he also knew that the other man could take him really anywhere and he'd be sure to enjoy himself as long as Mickey was there with him. He also found it quite sweet that the other man seemed so genuinely eager and excited to show him this new place, wherever it was, making the flutters waft their way up his throat and dance around his lungs. The redhead was really beginning to like the other man more and more, unable to stray from the thought of him for a single second, not that he wanted to anyway. 

Ian knew there was still a lot for them to learn about each other, that there were still so many unknown levels and dimensions within each man that were completely concealed from each other, but it didn't stop him from wanting to learn and discover every single one. Mickey was still such an intriguing, captivating mystery and just like the man had told Ian that he wanted to know everything he could about him, deep down he knew that feeling was extremely mutual. He wanted to know more even now as they strode along within their comfortable silence, but wasn't quite sure where to start, what to say or what to ask to get a conversation going again. Then his eyes began to travel with a bit of a linger as they fell back over toward Mickey and he began to think a little more.

He gazed slowly over his face with a gentle pause in his own, tracing the sharp, distinct edges of his features, silently admiring how handsome he was and especially how distinguished he looked even still being as young as he was. Ian's sight moved from the deep blue sparkle of the other man's eyes, over his cheek bones and landed on his lips, licking his own and remembering how good Mickey's mouth tasted. Then the redhead's eyebrow arched without much control, as he let his eyes travel even lower, slowly moving over Mickey's shoulders, lightly biting his lip as he took in the lean, muscular broadness of his chest, and followed his arms down to the subtle rock of his hips as he moved into each step. 

Ian definitely knew one thing he'd like to discover about Mickey that he still doesn't know for sure, and the longer he looked, the heavier his eyelids felt and a warm, hazy tickle of wanting began to creep along his pores and quicken his pulse just a bit. He still wasn't quite sure how to ask, but still opted to go for it and do so anyway while he had the confidence to, refusing to let his nerves hold him back. Ian's sight moved back up to Mickey's face, just as the dark haired man took a long swig of beer and he took a small breath, trying to appear very casual as he tipped his head to the side. 

"So," Ian began lightly with a slight push of his lip, still looking over at the man walking beside him and raised an eyebrow again, "Top or bottom?" he asked with a smooth tone and slightly smug expression, causing Mickey's eyes to suddenly widen and he choked on his beer a bit. 

The dark haired man snapped his face around to look at him as he brought his free fist up to his mouth and covered a cough, obviously quite surprised by such an unexpected question, then chuckled a bit through his minor struggle and drew his brow together.

"The fuck you just say?" Mickey asked back in a strained, squeaky voice, then pushed out another small cough. The redhead smiled and held his chin up rather proudly at the other man's reaction to his query, slightly amused by it as well. 

"Top or bottom?" Ian repeated, then sipped his own bottle and swallowed, "Or do you not have a preference?" he asked further with a small shrug. The other man looked him over a bit, and hesitated some, but he didn't look bothered or insulted, merely splitting a smirk and slowly arched an eyebrow of his own.

"Why the fuck you wanna know?" Mickey queried a bit more lowly, his tongue rolling beneath his lip with intrigue in his eyes. Ian let himself smirk a bit as well, then pushed his lip back out with another shrug. 

"Just kinda seems like knowledge that might come in handy at some point," Ian said honestly, "Might be a good thing to know beforehand," he added, trying not to sound too cocky or hopeful, but remain as smooth as he could in his words. 

The dark haired man chewed his lip some over his own growing smirk, appearing rather impressed by how forward the other man suddenly was, then held the arch in his brow and looked back ahead with another sip of beer, tipping his chin. 

"You seem pretty fuckin' confident about that, eh?" Mickey teased a bit, causing the redhead to simply shrug again, then let a rather smug grin spread across his face, "Feelin' fuckin' lucky again or some shit?" he asked. But the other man simply held his expression and titled his head again. 

"Is there a reason why I shouldn't?" Ian countered confidently, which pulled another wide, chuckly smirk from Mickey's lips and he turned back to narrow his eyes on him some, chewing his lip again and thinking it over. 

He ran the tip of his tongue over the silver ring within his lower lip and let his sight trail down along the redhead's body, softly following the lines of his muscles beneath his clothes, then counted the freckles that speckled up the lengths of his arms, then his neck, before looking back into his face. His tongue then rolled over again behind his lip and he looked away, arching his studded eyebrow and titled his head just slightly.

"I don't mind doin' the fuckin'," Mickey replied finally, then shrugged a single shoulder, "Least not once in a while," he added to clarify.

His words weren't as blunt as the redhead had expected them to be, but still direct enough to get the intention in his words across more than clearly. Ian's eyes brightened a bit as his interest and intrigue instantly grew even more, finding out that his inkling had been correct and Mickey prefers to bottom, than top. He suddenly couldn't seem to stop the wide, happy grin that spread across his face hearing the other man's answer, but didn't want to look too goofy and almost instantly tried to control it, forcing it back down into a small casual smirk, secretly far more than pleased at such a response than he'd ever verbally admit. 

He watched the other man wrap his lips back around the bottle of frothy, golden liquid and suck down another gulp, then looked back at Ian, very obviously waiting for some kind of response to his answer. The redhead didn't hesitate in the slightest, letting himself float on the buzz he felt, not knowing if it was from Mickey or the booze, but somehow knew exactly which it was as well and arched a very suggestive eyebrow. 

"Well see, that's a good thing to know," Ian offered in return, then let himself be just as bold, "Cause I don't mind being fucked," he added simply, then met his eyes, "At least not once in a while," he mirrored, to which the other man grinned at, chuckled some again, then let his sight trace back over him with an extremely shameless appeal in his gaze, softly trailing down over his muscles and piercing through his clothes. Ian let himself enjoy it and kept his own eyes on the other man in much the same way, until Mickey looked back up with a slight head cock and spoke to him again, his tone changing a bit.

"There's still plenty a fuckin' time, man," Mickey said with a very confidently, cocky expression on his face that the redhead just tried not to blush at. 

As much as Ian wanted to top Mickey were they ever to become intimate, he also definitely wouldn't turn him down if the other man wanted to top him instead, not at all minding the thought of being wrapped up beneath him a single bit. They both seemed to have compatible preferences though, which was definitely a good sign either way, knowing either option was possible, and completely on the table, the thought suddenly sending an anxious, tingly rush of blood flowing through his pelvis and pumping down his legs. 

Fuck, did he still want him, more of him, all of him, so very, very badly, another strong urge of craving beginning to course through his insides with almost a feeling of need. But still, he refrained and restrained himself, not wanting to rush himself, especially not before the other man really wanted him just as much, and just hoped that the moment would come on it's own soon enough.

Mickey sipped his beer again with another small chuckle on his lips and heaviness in his eyes, then looked back ahead once more to lead Ian through a few more densely packed trees and onto a skinny little trail that wove through another bunch that were more spread out. Ian tried to peer farther up ahead through the trees and thought he could make out the hint of a shimmery, sparkling blue, also able to hear just the faintest rush of flowing water, but suddenly had his sight pulled back to the man beside him.

"The fuck made ya wanna ask me some shit like that all of a sudden anyway?" Mickey queried suddenly, still looking content and friendly, but curious just the same, causing the redhead to shrug a bit, chuckle himself and try to sound innocent. 

"Handy knowledge," he reminded lightly with a grin, sticking to his story and refusing to budge, then took a quick swig from the bottle in his hand and shrugged again, "And just, you know, making conversation," offered Ian, "Getting to know you," he continued a bit, to which Mickey simply scoffed and chuckled again. 

"Outta every fuckin' thing you coulda thought to say, that's what ya fuckin' pick, huh?" Mickey joked lightly and gave his head a small shake. The other man laughed and crinkled his forehead. 

"I'm sorry. Did I fucking offend you or something?" asked Ian sarcastically with a small bounce of humor in his chest. The dark haired man scoffed through his nose this time and shook his head again. 

"Nah," replied Mickey, "Just fuckin' funny is all, man," he said, then looked back over at him with a very sarcastic expression of his own and raised a single pierced eyebrow. 

"That ain't the only thing you got on your fuckin' mind, is it?" he teased with a rather playful grin. The redhead let himself smile back with amusement, before softening it a bit, then spoke honestly, wanting him to know.

"You're the only thing I have on my mind," he corrected lowly, but clearly, looking straight into his eyes as the words left his lips. 

Mickey's eyes sparkled and his face seemed to glow a bit at his words, his genuine sincerity and unexpected honestly, smiling a bit from Ian's admission. The dark haired man held his stride, took him in silently for a short moment as if he were thinking a bit, then thumbed his lip as he looked ahead and spoke a bit lowly as well.

"Know whatcha fuckin' mean," Mickey agreed, his response a bit vague once more, but his intent was clear again. 

The redhead beside him felt the flutters in his heart suddenly tremble and hum more vibrantly within the pulse of their dance and he smiled again, enjoying the sensation and feeling more than happy with the other man's confession as well. Ian really, really fucking liked Mickey, honestly couldn't get the man out of his head and knowing the feeling was quite mutual just kept him floating atop the same wave as before, still just feeling great. Nothing could possibly spoil it now.

As Ian looked back ahead as well, the trees began to thin and spread out a bit more, the sound of moving water intensified just slightly and he was finally able to see where they were going. Mickey had led him out to another part of the river, an area that flattened into a small lake-like body in the middle and was speckled with dark, grey masses of stone that rose out from the depth. Some stood higher with jutted edges that cut through the water that moved around them, while others lay more smooth and flat, letting the cool flow simply slip and swirl past them. 

They began to step out from the woods, into the dirt that hugged the shore, but were still forced to teeter and sway among their roots as their feet also met a thick mass of reeds and cattails that blocked their path to the water. The dark haired man flashed the redhead a quick glance, his same sharp smirk and arch of his brow still pressed into his face, then gave his head a flick. Ian smiled right back and turned to follow him along the lengthy rustle of green. 

He led him only a short ways this time, where the reeds ended and turned into more stone that lazy waves flushed over and lapped at with their soft, gentle flow. There was one stone that was larger and stuck out from the dirt, much like the ramp stone he'd launched himself from atop the cliff, and stood over the water with a view of it's rush and ripples, along with the shores of land just beyond it, all draped in a deep, golden orange and a greenish purpling glow mingling with the treetops as the sun began to near it's evening set. 

Mickey took a step along the large slant of stone, then strode a few final steps to it's edge to sit on, letting his legs dangle just above the water and set their beer at his side as he looked back up at Ian, who easily joined him on the other. When the redhead sat, he exchanged a smile with the man beside him, then began to shimmy his shoulders from the straps of his pack as he turned his face around to look outward at their view. 

It was private and calm, quiet and peaceful, with mostly just the sounds of flowing water and the soft longing chant of crickets and fireflies filling the space around them, leaving the faint echoing boom of the festivals stages to be muffled out by the wind. They'd passed quite a few people when they'd first entered the forest, but the further they went, the fewer they saw before they'd become all alone within their travel. The faintest anxious speckle of nerves suddenly ran along the back of Ian's neck and down his spine, suddenly feeling even more excited that they really were absolutely all alone, finding a strange comfort in that fact as well, a peculiar security. There was no place he'd rather be than within the beautiful secluded surroundings he was in now, with no better company than he could possibly think to have right here with him and it was simply perfect. 

When the redhead settled in beside Mickey, he took another small sip from his beer, then let his eyes fall back over the other man's face, still simply unable to stop himself from gazing with the same adoring, admiring little grin stuck into his face. When the dark haired man looked back at him and saw, he arched an eyebrow at his expression, but only slightly and smiled right back. Ian gave a blink and tipped his head out toward the water as his legs swung lightly over the edge of the stone.

"So this is another spot of yours, huh?" Ian queried lightly, his expression very approving. The other man tipped his head back to gulp down the rest of his beer, then set the empty glass back amongst the filled ones and shrugged a shoulder with a nod. 

"Part of it," confirmed Mickey, then shot him a small glance and began to reach for the redhead's backpack to retrieve their bottle of liquor, to which the man let him, passing it right over, "Figured maybe we could fuckin' chill for a little bit first before I show ya the rest of it though," he said, pulling the dark, round bottle from the pack and zipping it closed. Ian pushed out his lip with a nod, still quite curious, but didn't ask anything further, honestly enjoying the quiet, little area the other man had picked and finding the view more than beautiful and the thick slant of stone quite nice to relax on.

"The other part's a little fuckin' cooler," Mickey added suddenly, sounding almost as if he were trying to defend his choice in location, like maybe he was nervous about it even, which just seemed unusual for Mickey, then scratched the bridge of his nose with the back of his thumb as Ian watched his face, shrugging once more and upturned a palm with pause. 

"I like it here though too," he said a bit more quietly, tapping his fingertips against the bottle of booze in his grip and shooting the man beside him another small glance. Ian exhaled lightly, but held the same content expression and reached over with a single hand to wrap his palm around Mickey's knee with a squeeze. 

"It's beautiful, Mick," Ian complimented honestly, wanting to assure the man that he really meant it, "I can see why you like it," he said, then let his face turn away for a moment and his eyes traced along the rocks and ripples, "Peaceful," he breathed genuinely, then smiled back over at the dark haired man at his side and his thumb began tracing small, affectionate circles into his knee cap as he did. Mickey's face softened a bit at the words, blinked over another smirk, then bit down on his lip ring with a very thick appeal before dropping his eyes back to the bottle in his hand. 

"Even nicer after a couple a fuckin' shots," cracked Mickey with a gesture down toward it, then passed Ian's pack back over to him before cracking the seal on the cap. 

Ian set the bag back behind them, then took a few long, intentful swigs from his beer, trying to finish it off quick and keep up with him. But when Mickey noticed, he chuckled, set the liquor down beside him as well and spoke with a somewhat cautious, but still very friendly tone.

"Aye," he said as Ian swallowed and lowered his beer, "Slow your fuckin' roll, man," advised Mickey with a smirk, then twinkled his eyes back over his face, clearly not trying to offend, but apparently didn't want him getting smashed too quickly. 

"We got all fuckin' night, ya know," he said, then arched his back and leaned over a bit, fishing a single fist through the pocket of his pants, the chain latched to his hip jingling and jangling as he did. He pulled out his cigarette case and passed it over to Ian instead. 

"Light one and fuckin' share it with me, eh?" Mickey directed lightly, reaching back into the same pocket to retrieve his zippo just as Ian took the case from him and flipped it open. 

He passed his lighter over as well and the redhead simply set down his nearly emptied beer bottle and did as he was directed to instead, slipping a single cigarette from the shiny, metal case to place between his lips and sparked the end with flame. Mickey watched him as he did in the same way he always really seemed to do, as if he simply enjoyed watching the other man's lips pucker over the cigarette's filter and his chest rise high when he sucked in a deep drag of smoke. Ian watched him back just as closely, as Mickey slipped his case and light back into his pocket without his eyes ever leaving him. 

Then Ian passed it with an exhale above his head and just tried to think of something more to say, still just wanting to talk with him more, share with him more and keep a conversation going, never wanting to stop learning about Mickey or stop the man from learning more about him in return. The possibilities still felt limitless and the urge to explore them further, nearly uncontrollable.The pull this man had on him just felt so fucking strong and he didn't want to ignore it. The redhead swung his feet loosely over the water below them, thinking, wondering, then met the other man's gaze when he turned to pass the cigarette back. 

"You know, there's plenty of other stuff I'd love to know about you too," said Ian, just feeling the need to voice that and make it known, then pulled a drag over a chuckle, keeping the mood quite light, "Not just how you like to fuck," he said. 

The other man raised an eyebrow at first, then punched out a laugh that he covered with his fist, not at all looking offended, letting his humor bounce through his chest and shoulders before he calmed with a smile. 

"Yeah?" Mickey replied with question, "Like what?" he chuckled and knitted his brow.

Ian thought again for a moment as green eyes moved ever so delicately over the sharp, handsome features of the other man's face and let the smile that painted his own pull a little wider at his mouth, just looking. Honestly, he wanted to know everything there possibly was to know about Mickey, anything at all the other man was willing to share with him, even after learning so much already. Ian was more than grateful for how open the other man was, how comfortable he seemed to be around him and wanted so very much to offer the same in return, feeling much the same inside anyway. 

But now, once again the dark haired man was willing to respond, willing to share even more, so the redhead definitely wasn't going to turn down the opportunity. He tilted his head a bit and suddenly paused on a thought that he'd meant to ask him much sooner, having found that particular discovery to be quite impressive and interesting, not to mention fairly mild to bring up and opted to go for it. So, Ian pulled another puff of smoke from the cigarette and passed it. 

"Watching you play drums the other night was pretty fucking cool," Ian complimented suddenly, the same genuinely admiring tone in his voice remaining heavily laced within his words and the other man smirked a bit, "Mandy said you've been doing it for years," he noted with a raise of his brow, "How'd you get started?" he queried. 

Mickey pushed out his lip a bit, then sucked in a long thick drag of smoke, before pushing it out through his nose in a whispy, blue puff and scratched the bridge with his thumb. He hesitated for a moment and looked as if he were thinking quite seriously, before his face relaxed some again. Then he flashed the redhead a small glance and tilted his head. 

"Uh, well," he began with a blink, then let a small laugh slip, "When I was a little fuckin' kid, I had a lotta fuckin' anger issues," said Mickey, then paused and pushed out his lip again with a shrug and split a small, guilty grin, "Still kinda do," he added. Ian smiled a bit and nodded. "But uh, when I was way younger, I had the shit real fuckin' bad. Used to fuckin' snap over all kinds a shit and I'd break shit, punch holes in the fuckin walls and rip the place apart," explained Mickey, looking as if he truly felt guilty for these actions and the other man nodded again. 

"Shit was hell on my ma," said Mickey with a deep crease in his brow, then upturned a palm, "Ya know, cause she was the one having to fuckin' clean it all and fix shit up," he continued, then met Ian's eyes and gave a small resentful shake of his head, "My ol' man never fuckin' gave a shit, 'cept to cuss her out for not bein' able to do anythin' else about it," Mickey pulled a drag and sucked his teeth, "Shit never had a fuckin' thing to do with her though, ya know?" he said, his eyes focused and open, searching the green ones beside him for some kind of understanding. 

Ian squeezed his hand around his knee once more and offered an expression that he hoped gave just that, not realizing his question would bear such weight, but still listened closely, intently and took it in all the same. The other man's eyes moved over his face, then looked away to flick a bit of ash off the end of their cigarette.

"Anyway, uh, I've always fuckin' liked music," Mickey shrugged again with a small smirk, "So my ma had the idea to get me a fuckin' drum set, so I could have somethin' else to fuckin' beat on when I'd get pissed instead a the walls and furniture and shit," he said, then gave a loose wave of his hand, "I mean, it was just some cheap shit set from the fuckin' pawn shop, but it was fuckin' nice, man," Mickey looked back over with a sure nod as he spoke, "Nice enough for me anyway," he rephrased, tipping his brow. 

"And the shit fuckin' worked, I guess," he said, "Used to fuckin' pound on that thing until I couldn't feel my fuckin' arms anymore," Mickey laughed, "Always just kinda stuck too," he added, "And eventually I didn't always sound like shit when I played," he cracked and the other man laughed as well, remembering how incredibly well the man had played a few nights ago and sounding nowhere close to shit at all. 

Mickey's talents amazed Ian, among so many other appealing and intriguing qualities the man possessed, and he couldn't help but smile a bit the more he thought about them. He also felt even closer to Mickey than he did before, being allowed to delve within his mind just a bit deeper, grateful for the trust once again. He held his expression as his eyes sparkled gently over the sharp cut of Mickey's jaw, over the ridge of his cheekbones, then back into the deep, bold blues that gazed right back. Ian watched him take another hit from the cigarette, but not break their eye contact.

"It's good to have an outlet," Ian replied, "A way to release all your stress and shit," he nodded a bit, "It can keep you from losing your mind," he said, to which the other man nodded in agreement as well, still eyeing him a bit, but only slightly. The redhead tipped back his beer bottle against his lips a final time, swallowing down his last sip from his beer, then met the other man's gaze once more with soft, honest eyes, "I'm glad she helped you find something that worked," said Ian. Mickey held his grin and tipped his chin again.

"Me too," he replied, and tilted his head to the other side as he passed the cigarette back, "Used to spend fuckin' hours wailin' on the thing when I needed to cool the fuck down," Mickey recalled, then chuckled again, "And the noise always really fuckin' pissed my dad off, so that was fun too," he said, to which the other man laughed lightly as well. 

"Well, you're really fucking good," Ian said with a sure tone, which the other man almost seemed to blush at, clearly a bit flattered by the compliment and smiled again some, "It doesn't surprise me that you've been playing as long as you have," he added, "You sounded pretty fucking badass the other night," he said. 

"Thanks, man," responded Mickey, the same happy, comfortable expression filling his face, then reached for the other man's empty beer to place beside his own on the other side of him, "Had to take a fuckin' break from playin' for a little while there, but shit's kinda like ridin' a fuckin' bike, so I don't think it made too much fuckin' difference," he said. 

Mickey then regrasped the larger, darker bottle at his side and held it up with a small wiggle, seeing if the redhead still wanted to share something a bit harder, to which Ian gave a brief approving chin tip, but his brow creased again. 

"Why'd you have to take a break?" asked Ian as the other man set his sights on the booze he now had in his lap and untwisted the cap. 

Then Ian saw him chuckle again, but quietly and in a slightly darker way, the same resentful tone from a few moments ago lacing his voice again, before he gave his head a shake and pressed his lips together.

"Kept pokin' the bear a little too fuckin' much, I guess," said Mickey, then raised the bottle to his lips to take a quick, sharp swig that scrunched his face and curled his lips over his teeth when he swallowed, before he passed it, upturning a palm when he did. 

"Sometimes when I'd play, my ol' man would get so fuckin' mad about it 'cause he was always either fuckin' drunk or hungover and sick. Then he'd come yellin' and screamin' tryin' to bust my fuckin' door down," Mickey began to explain and Ian just listened again, hating that the other man's father seemed to be such a foul, hateful person, but still grateful that Mickey'd been able to escape it eventually. 

"And so uh, I'd always like fuckin' block it with my dresser and shit so he couldn't fuckin' get in," he elaborated, then thumbed his lip as the redhead took a small swig of booze, "Then one day he did," he said. 

Ian swallowed, but ignored the burn, much too focused on the nerves that prickled along the back of his neck and he held his breath as kept his eyes on Mickey, his arm reaching out to hand the bottle over. 

"But the motherfucker didn't fuckin' touch me," he revealed suddenly, which eased the tension in Ian's shoulders just a bit and the other man raised his brow high, "Which surprised the fuck outta me really," Mickey scoffed over a small, dry chuckle, then turned his face to meet Ian's eyes, "Still took a fuckin' sledgehammer to my fuckin' drum set though," he added, then looked away to take a gulp of liquor, "Smashed the shit to fuckin' pieces, man," said Mickey with a swallow. Ian's lips parted and his forehead held a deep, dark crinkle that split down his face, angry and appalled for the man, finding yet another reason to hate his father even more.

"That's fucked up," replied Ian, sticking his chin out, "What a fucking asshole," he scoffed and the other man nodded once more. 

"That's my ol' man for ya," Mickey agreed with a head cock as he handed the bottle back over again, "Just a vengeful, hateful fuckin' prick," he breathed. The redhead pressed his lips together and felt his shoulders drop a bit. 

"I'm sorry, Mick," he said, but Mickey waved him off almost instantly. 

"Don't be fuckin' sorry 'bout no shit like that," he advised with insistence, sounding like he really didn't want the other man to feel bothered, even dropping one of his hands to his knee to wrap his palm over Ian's, "Just the way shit was," said Mickey with a small single shouldered shrug, "Got a new fuckin' set after I got the fuck outta there anyway," he informed him, his voice light and easy like the problem had already been solved, "So it all fuckin' worked out," he said. 

"Yeah?" asked Ian, to which the other man gave a nod. 

"Yeah," Mickey confirmed, "My dad might be a steamin' fuckin' pile a shit, but my ma's a fuckin' saint," he explained with a very positive expression, "One a the first fuckin' things she did when I showed up was get me a new one," he said, then swallowed another swig, his lips pressing tight through the burn, "So I picked it back up the last couple years," said Mickey, and offered Ian the booze, which he took and tipped back to take a longer drink, enjoying the slowly arising hint of it's buzz as it began to form and tingle atop his skin, "Shit's still set up in her fuckin' basement as far as I know," he shrugged and let his eyes wander out across the water. The man beside him raised an eyebrow. 

"I thought you said that's where you were staying?" Ian wondered aloud, confused if he was remembering correctly or not, "You and Mandy both?" he queried a bit further, hoping he didn't sound invasive and nosy as all fuck. But the dark haired man didn't seem to feel invaded, remaining quite relaxed in his posture and didn't hesitate.

"I was," confirmed Mickey, "For a fuckin' while," he said, then titled his head, "Mandy's still there though." 

"But you're not anymore?" asked Ian and Mickey thumbed his lip again, but shook his head. 

"Not exactly," he said. 

He didn't seem too quick to offer much else, though Ian didn't push for more either, not wanting to completely pry into the man's personal life, make him uncomfortable or perhaps cross a line and upset him. It had to be enough for now, no matter how curious he was. So, he simply offered a nod instead, understanding enough, even if it may not be much yet, content with whatever Mickey was willing to offer him. He could be patient and give him time, not bothered by that a bit.

The redhead took another drink, then glanced back over as Mickey smoked down the last of their cigarette, then began fishing through his pockets to collect and light another. Ian just watched him, taking another small gulp as he did, remembering from the last few nights that the other man seemed to smoke quite a bit more when he was drunk, or even just beginning to buzz and smiled again, absolutely loving the way Mickey looked when he did. The dark haired man flipped open his lighter with a smooth, scrapey clink and flicked the reel with his thumb, the burst of flame painting his face a bright, bold orange, then softened into a rougey pink as he closed it and the cherry burned red. 'Fuck,' Ian's mind couldn't help but stutter as he looked, 'He's gorgeous,' he thought. 

Ian squeezed his grasp atop the other man's knee, causing him to turn his face and see the redhead offer the liquor over. Mickey smiled, grasped the bottle and turned his hand around the neck of it as he did to trade it for his smoke. Ian took it and brought it to his lips, enjoying the subtle lingering flavor of the other man's mouth on it's filter. Then still he just looked for a moment as he exhaled a thick, grayish plume into the air, unable to stray his sight from Mickey's throat, watching the way the muscles within it flexed as he swallowed. He bit his lip and felt his gaze heavy a bit, eyeing the man's features in much the same way he had before, the urge to touch and taste him always seemingly lurking within the back of his mind. 

But he still wanted to know Mickey on a much deeper level than simply a physical one, that urge and need outweighing all else in this moment. He still wanted to share more of himself, really feeling like he should, that he owed that to Mickey, to show him how much he trusted him just like he'd shown with Ian. So he tried to think of something to offer, anything really about himself that his companion may find interesting but was having sort of a tough time, honestly rather embarrassed and ashamed of many of the things that crossed his thoughts. He knew the things Mickey has shared hadn't exactly been mild either, but still choosing was hard. 

The redhead pulled another drag, then noticed Mickey look at him with an expression that was difficult to read. Ian gazed right back at him, seeing him thinking once more, perhaps thinking of the very same thing Ian was himself, then gestured to the smoke between the other man's fingers. 

"Tell me somethin' about you I don't fuckin' know yet," Mickey requested suddenly, lightly, but with curiosity in his voice, then sucked a drag as he looked over his face and Ian tried to cover another nervous swallow, "Anythin'," he added quietly, his tone low and soft.

Then in an instant, nearly all of Ian's nerves were washed away, suddenly feeling so incredibly safe beneath the other man's gaze all over again that talking about himself didn't seem so impossible. He knew Mickey wouldn't judge him, wouldn't belittle anything he told him and would try to understand anything he chose to share. He seemed just as genuinely interested in Ian as Ian was with him, the thought slowing his breath and relaxing his muscles even more. There was nothing to be afraid of, not with Mickey. 

So, he tried once more to think of something, when he was suddenly struck with a thought of something in particular, something that even though he'd been made to feel embarrassed about in the past, of all people, Mickey would probably understand it completely. Ian rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand as the other man sipped the bottle once more, then passed it, still quietly and patiently waiting for the redhead to speak, to share, to offer more. He took it, tapped his fingertips against the glass and slowly tilted his head. 

"Well, I uh," Ian fumbled a bit, tapping his fingers again, "I like to draw," he said with a bit of hesitation, but the other man merely creased his brow again quite deeply, his response clearly being quite unexpected and arched a swift, sharp eyebrow. 

"No shit?" said Mickey, pulling his face back a bit, then looked him over with an expression of confusion and skepticism, "Why the fuck didn't you tell me that shit before?" The redhead shrugged a bit as he took a small drink of booze.

"Not very many people really know," admitted Ian, "Don't ever really share it with anyone," he tried to explain, "Least not in a really long time," he said, but Mickey still looked him over a bit, appearing perhaps a little disappointed that the redhead clearly felt so ashamed about it. Ian noticed though and managed a small, light chuckle, his eyebrows raising high with certainty. 

"I'm not nearly as fucking talented as you are though," he complimented. Mickey split a smirk, but held a pretty serious expression over it.

"Art ain't necessarily always just about fuckin' talent, man," Mickey countered, then inhaled a bit of smoke and blew it out, "It's about fuckin' expression," he explained, speaking with his hands, "Emotion, release," Mickey elaborated and tipped his head, "Kinda like fuckin' music," he said.

The man's response surprised Ian once again, the depth of his thoughts and his profound level of understanding and insight into something so seemingly meaningless and simple to so many others. He knew Mickey would be able to relate, obviously being an artist himself, but how easily he spoke of it, how much he instantly sympathized with Ian's unsurety and tried to reinforce his confidence, was something much more unexpected. Ian felt touched, and the feeling only grew as the other man's thumb began rubbing slow little circles into his hand, his gaze falling fondly back over him. Then the dark haired man raised another eyebrow and squeezed his grip again. 

"So what, do ya think you're not any good?" Mickey queried curiously, "How come you don't fuckin' tell people?" he asked, "Cause I mean if you're fuckin' good, most people think drawing's pretty fuckin' cool, man," said Mickey, ashing the cigarette and offering it over. The redhead shrugged and passed the booze with a push of his lip. 

"I don't really fucking know if I'm any good or not," Ian replied honestly, only ever having very few opinions to go on and not ever feeling very confident in his skills, "I don't really think I am though, no," he said a bit lower. The other man's eyes flickered over him for a brief moment, before he felt the same familiar grasp tighten atop his own.

"How come?" asked Mickey.

Ian blinked and hesitated a moment, recalling the memory that'd forever molded his feelings toward his own artwork and in turn made him so much more critical of himself in everything he did. But he also wasn't even sure if it was something that should even matter, not any more and that thought made him feel all the more pathetic for it bothering him so much. The redhead pulled a puff of smoke into his lungs, rubbed his forehead with the same hand as he exhaled and managed a small chuckle. 

"You're gonna think it's fucking stupid," Ian breathed, but Mickey only smirked the same handsome smirk that he always did. 

"Fuckin' try me, man," he challenged easily, then took a drink, his eyes never leaving him and listened, waited, keeping his gaze completely open for the other man to read. The redhead let a small smile pull at his cheeks and softened again, but pulled another drag before he spoke again, still honestly feeling kind of stupid about it.

"Okay, uh," said Ian, flicking his thumb over the cigarette's filter a few times even though it didn't need it, then exhaled, "There was this one time when I was about 12," he began, swinging his legs a bit, "I was in my room, just screwing around, doodling or whatever," the redhead elaborated, the other man still focused and listening, "And, um, I've always shared a room with my brothers when I'm living at home, so there's no fucking privacy," he said.

"I was drawing a pegasus," continued Ian, then met Mickey's eyes, 'Fuck, they're so blue,' and took a hit from the cigarette before trading it back for the bottle again, "It's pretty much a horse with wings," he explained upturning a palm, but the other man just tipped his chin. 

"I know what they are," said Mickey, "I've drawn 'em before too," he smirked. The redhead smiled back, then took a long swallow from the liquor bottle, letting the fiery potion within relax his muscles even more. 

"Well, I've always liked mythical creatures and shit like that," he shrugged, "I draw that kinda stuff a lot," Ian said, trying not to feel like a complete dweeb. 

But Mickey didn't seem to judge him at all, smiling over his face and taking in his words with honest intrigue in his eyes. So, Ian tried not to falter in his story, the trust from the man at his side strong and reassuring and continued again.

"And uh, well I remember working on it for like a fucking week and I was pretty proud of it," informed Ian, then let his eyes fall to the bottle in his fist, rubbing the pad of his thumb across the glass, "But then when I was finally starting to finish it up, my older brother came in and saw it," he said with a blink.Then the redhead paused again, letting his eyes drop back down to the cold, dark glass in his grasp, before he took a sip and looked back over.

"Said it was good," Ian nodded a bit, then pressed his lips together, "Good, but kinda gay," he clarified, remembering how much the comment had hurt him to hear at the time, "And that I should be careful about what I draw or people might think I'm a faggot," he said, recalling the way Lip had laughed when he said it. He watched Mickey's face and saw him pull a frown, understanding completely, then deepened the crease in his brow. 

"Well your brother sounds like a fuckhead, man," Mickey defended, "And his opinion don't fuckin' matter," he assured with a head shake, "It's shit anyway," he said. Ian nodded, agreeing, then waved the whole thing off with a loose hand shake.

"Yeah, I know," Ian said, "But it was a long fucking time ago, a few years before I even came out. So, it's not like he actually meant anything by it, I don't think," he added, trying to explain that even though his brother had the tendency to be kind of a general ass most of the time, deep down he knew there'd been no malice behind the comment, "And after I did, he never gave a shit that I was gay, none of my siblings did," said Ian, and the dark haired man seemed to understand, his face smoothing back out just slightly. The redhead reached to the back of his neck once more, scrunching his face a bit and gave it another rub before dropping his palm to grasp the spout of the bottle resting on the stone between his knees.

"He probably doesn't even remember it," the redhead mentioned suddenly, a bit more quietly and didn't look up for a moment, "I told you it's fucking stupid," he reminded, then gazed up just slightly, farther out along the ripples and waves in front of them, and not quite back at Mickey yet, "But um, ever since then I've never really showed anyone too much of my stuff," Ian said, "Don't really trust anyone enough, I guess," he shrugged. 

The dark haired man sucked in a long drag of smoke and exhaled through his nose into a cloud around his face, but still held Ian's hand firmly in place, having yet to move it since he first laid it down. He narrowed his gaze on him in the same serious, yet gentle fashion he had a moment ago and shook his head just slightly.

"That ain't fuckin' stupid at all, Ian," countered Mickey, the lingering whisps of smoke slowly dispersing from their cloud around him to be swept out by the slightest breeze and wafted across the water, "I get it," he said softly, and the redhead's breath was suddenly pulled away with the smoke as green eyes twinkled back over the other man's face.

"Try not to listen to the fuckin' assholes though, man," Mickey suggested lightly, "They don't know shit," he said with emphasis in his voice, then twisted his fingers between Ian's with another small grasp. 

"Told ya, I used to hear the same fuckin' bullshit from my dad all the fuckin' time," he reminded, "I know how bad that shit can fuckin' eat at ya if ya let it," Mickey sympathized, seemingly still hoping to reassure him a bit more. 

Ian nodded, never possibly able to forget the immensely personal and traumatic tale the other man had shared with him earlier in the day, knowing how much harder such circumstances had to of been for Mickey than they'd been for himself. Yes, if there was anyone who truly understood how Ian felt in this particular instance, it was Mickey, much more than the redhead had previously considered. It made Ian feel even closer to him all over again as a warm, fluttery feeling floated lightly through his chest. The dark haired man sucked in another drag and blew it out above his head.

"Took me a long ass time to fuckin' learn that it don't fuckin' matter what anyone else has to say about any a the shit I do, 'cept me," said Mickey, then let his sight fall slowly back over him, from Ians face to his shoulders, then further down to his chest before dropping completely to his lap and reached to grasp the spout of the liquor bottle, pulling it from his knees. He met his gaze split a small smirk. 

"Life's too fuckin' short to give a shit about other fuckers who do," Mickey offered, then took a quick, sharp swig of booze, swallowed and shrugged a single shoulder, "But if they really fuckin' piss you off, you can still just whoop their ass and be done with it that way too," he cracked with a grin.

The redhead laughed once more, his mood completely light and eased, no longer really exposed or vulnerable. Though with Mickey it hadn't been so bad, especially not after the talk of his illness just a short while ago, this subject in the broader aspect being much more mild. Still, he was glad he'd talked about it, glad he'd shared it, with Mickey at least. 

Then the dark haired man gazed at him again, but not back down along his body, now focused only on his face with an unreadable softness etched into the surface of his own. He rolled his tongue behind his cheek, then across his lip, flashing it's piercing and blinked as a single eyebrow pulled into the perfectly curious arch atop his brow.

"And uh, I completely fuckin' understand needing to trust someone to share that shit with 'em," Mickey added, then scratched the bridge of his nose, "But if you ever wanted a real fuckin' opinion, like a fuckin' honest one," he offered with a very thoughtful gaze, then smoothly smirked again, "I've been told I got pretty decent fuckin' taste," the man informed him with a playful smugness in his voice, perhaps beginning to feel the liquor a bit more, "I'd love to see what you can do," he said, "If you ever fuckin' felt comfortable of course," said Mickey, another smooth expression pressed into his face and the other man simply continued to smile. 

"I'm sure your artwork's fuckin' great, Ian," Mickey predicted with surety, then let a small laugh bounce off the tops of his shoulders as he shrugged yet again, "And I mean, on the off chance it ain't, even the fuckin' ugly shit's still got character at least," he laughed, tipping his head back a bit, earning him another laugh from the redhead beside him in return, their smiles now never seeming to fade from either face and their fingers wove together tighter within their grasp. Ian offered a nod through his humor, then calmed and looked at him, feeling more than comfortable with Mickey, in a way he really never thought he ever had before with anyone else at all.

"I think I could show you," replied Ian, to which the other man quite openly smiled, even when he raised a finger to warn him, "I'm telling you though, I'm not very good," he insisted, but Mickey simply scoffed through his nose and arched another perfect eyebrow. 

"Let me be the fuckin' judge a that," he said.

Mickey held a grin, bit his lip a bit and his eyes twinkled through the slightest glossy haze, then sucked a final drag from his cigarette before dropping it through the spout of an empty beer bottle to join the first, but didn't let his eyes stray from the redhead at his side. Ian's sight remained as well, seemingly glued into the man's gaze the same as he'd been all day, hopelessly drawn into him and just couldn't seem to fight it. There didn't seem to be a single thing about Mickey that he didn't admire, enjoy or find simply fascinating, unlike anyone else he'd ever met. He was special, Ian could feel it in his veins, in his nerves, among the dance of flutters that swirled around inside his chest and lingering along the pulsing beat of his heart, filling him with a powerful indescribable feeling that couldn't possibly match any other. Mickey was just amazing.

Ian licked his lips then bit it, feeling his eyelids hood just a bit with a wanting, craving pull and gripped the other man's knee cap more firmly, causing the hand atop his to curl and weave his fingers more tightly into Ian's. He felt the air getting heavier again, the way it always did when the tension between them would suddenly cloud and thicken around them for a moment and the redhead wanted so very badly to tell Mickey how he was feeling, to show him. The dark haired man ran the tip of his tongue back across his lip once more, blue eyes briefly flickering toward the other man's lips, but remained on green eyes more than not and Ian decided to go for it, needing to do it now. 

"I really fucking like you, Mickey," Ian said, his voice soft and honest, but low as well, "A lot," he emphasized. 

The other man's smirk widened into another smile full of perfect white teeth and framed with sweet, pink lips, the steel ring stuck through one shining again under the setting sun. Then his eyes seemed to shimmer as he blinked, rubbed his thumb into the redhead's hand and arched a smooth eyebrow. 

"You already know what I fuckin' think a ya, man," replied Mickey, his voice and tone much the same as Ian's, "You ain't fuckin' alone," he said. 

The flutters danced again within their wonderfully tickling swarm, then pulsed more intensely, slowly rising up into his throat. Then Mickey's eyes fall with another flicker and his tongue rolled behind his cheek, causing the other man to lick them again, recognizing that the dark haired man seemed to feel the same urge. Ian's breath slowed, his mouth suddenly felt dry for just an instant and he exhaled, needing to have more, yearning to indulge. 

"Can I kiss you?" Ian asked hardly above a whisper. The dark haired man let the smallest chuckle of amusement slip and smirked at him lightly.

"You really askin' me for fuckin' permission?" Mickey queried back, his gaze falling heavier as the words left his lips and they both seemed to lean a bit closer. 

"That doesn't sound like a no?" Ian noted, his voice challenging but breathy, the anticipation of tasting the other man's lips again filling his mind with a pleasurable foggy, haze and he exhaled once more.

The other man sucked his lower lip into his mouth for a moment, then released it, dropping his eyes a final time and offering just the slightest inviting tip of his chin. When he did, Ian didn't wait, couldn't wait, just didn't fucking want to and slowly leaned through the remaining space between them, connecting their lips with the same irresistible energy that always erupted from their embrace. It just felt so fucking right.

It began very tentatively and slow, as if each of them wanted to take their time, simply feeling the sensation of the other man's mouth on their own, savoring the warmth, the flavor, the sparks and savoring the quench. Lips lightly parted and tongues gently caressed, mingled, danced together through light, breathy sighs of want and need. It didn't get incredibly heavy too quickly just yet, but it still intensified as Ian flipped his hand atop the other man's knee to grasp Mickey's palm better, locking their fingers together with intention.

Mickey gripped back, then grabbed the liquor with his other hand, reaching blindly beside him to set it aside and clinking it into the beer bottles as he did, the rest of him much more focused on the redhead on his lips. He then placed his palm in the middle of Ian's chest as he kissed him, twisting his fingers within the fabric of his shirt and pulled him in a bit more deeply, a bit harder, with a little more feeling. The redhead nearly shuddered from the contact and sighed against Mickey's lips. Then Ian felt the other man's hand lower a bit more, down his chest, pausing over his abs, then gripped his shirt again and gave the fabric a tug, leaning his face back just enough to speak.

"Take your clothes off," Mickey breathed, his face a bit flushed and his lips slightly parted. 

Ian's eyes snapped open with a brow crease, surprised by the man's request and for just an instant wasn't sure if he'd heard him right. His eyelids fluttered in reaction and he raised his eyebrows high. 

"What?" Ian blurted, causing the other man to look up into his eyes, then back to his lips, leaning back in for another teasing brush of his mouth and gave his shirt another tug. 

"Take your fuckin' clothes off," Mickey repeated, the tone of his direction filled with a bit more urge, then leaned back away, retracting both his hands for just an instant and reaching for the bottom of his own to pull up over his head. 

The redhead's eyes found the other man's chest, his abs, his stomach, tracing along each cut and crease within his smooth, pale skin, causing him to lick his lips again, wanting so very badly to slide his palms over every single one. Deep, green eyes hooded even further as they moved back up to his face, seeing the other man smirk a bit and look him over expectantly. Ian gave the slightest tip of his chin, not moving to comply just yet and smirked as well.

"Well, you sure as fuck don't waste any time, do you Mickey?" he observed, letting his mouth pull into a grin. But the dark haired man merely chuckled at the comment, scoffed lightly through his nose and shook his head. 

"Not for that," Mickey countered with the same grin, "Told ya, there's plenty a fuckin' time for that," he reminded suggestively, the gaze behind his eyes still thick and heavy, then tongued his lip ring and gave his head a flick, "Just can't swim too fuckin' well with clothes on, ya know?" he said. The redhead creased his brow again as his hands moved to the bottom of his shirt, pausing for just a second. 

"Swim?" he queried, to which the other man nodded, then began to stand up, letting his shirt drop from his lap and puddle atop the rock. 

"Yeah," confirmed Mickey, "Still wanna show ya the other fuckin' part, man," he said, his hands reaching to unclasp his belt, watching as the still seated redhead slowly pulled his shirt higher, looking up at him and listening, "Gotta go before we lose all the fuckin' sun," he said, glancing toward the burning ball of gold hovering among the treetops, then looked back at Ian, "Just gotta swim out to it is all," said Mickey. 

Ian was curious again, but gave a nod as he slipped off his shirt, not at all minding having to swim and was still just eager to be with him again, touch him again, taste him again, no matter where they were. So, with that, he rose to stand as well, still a bit worked up from their brief rush of affection, but wasn't disappointed in the slightest and knew that Mickey was right: There was plenty of time. 

"Is it far?" asked Ian as he began toeing off his shoes and fiddling with his belt as well. The heavy, metal chain that hung from Mickey's pants, clanked against the water bottle he still had on his belt as he let them drop from his hips and land atop the rock, toeing out of his shoes as well. 

"Nah," he replied easily with another small head shake, glancing up toward the other man as he continued to strip from his clothing, still eyeing him with a heavy lace of appeal in his gaze, then cocked his head, "Just a little fuckin' ways," said Mickey. He then paused a moment, thumbing his lip with a hint of hesitation, before he raised his brow a bit. 

"You just gotta fuckin' trust me though," he said. 

Ian wasn't sure what Mickey meant, but he wasn't worried or nervous as their eyes moved together, stepping out from their pants, both their sights lingering as they did. The redhead only knew that he really did trust him, having followed him everywhere else he'd brought him so far, never disappointed with the results even if they'd sometimes been unexpected. When he'd told Mickey they could go wherever he wanted, Ian had meant it and didn't hesitate in the slightest now either.

"I do," replied Ian with a small smile on his face that earned him a mirroring expression from his companion, quite pleased with that response.

Then each man began reaching for their socks, peeling them off and stuffing them inside their shoes, also bundling up their clothes a bit more as Ian unzipped his pack so they could stuff them away. The redhead crouched as Mickey passed each article over to him, even managing to fit their other few beers as well, then paused again before he moved to close it, feeling the man's eyes on him from above. Ian lifted his face and met Mickey's bold blue eyes still locked onto him and he chewed his lip a bit, hesitating once again.

Very slowly Mickey thumbed his lip, then dropped both hands, his thumbs pausing just below the tattoo on the front of his pelvis and brushed them across the rim of his boxer briefs. Ian's eyes flickered, dropping as well for just an instant, then flashed them back up to his face, making absolutely no objection to the gesture, but still swallowed just a bit. The dark haired man then slipped his thumbs behind the band of elastic and began to pull them down, his gaze still never leaving him as the fabric slid down his legs to his feet. Mickey then stepped out of his boxers, picked them up and bent just slightly to tuck them away inside the bag himself, and Ian just couldn't stop himself from staring. 

He'd seen the man's body a bit already before, but like this it was different, so exposed with absolutely nothing covering him at all, but seemingly pretty comfortable, confident and that alone made the flutters rage with an even stronger surge through his lungs, twisting around his ribs and squeezing his heart with another wave of yearning. Ian bit his lip again as Mickey straightened back up in wait, then saw him smirk down at him again, arching a curious eyebrow toward the man's own underclothes still attached to his body. 

The redhead didn't wait for the man to question twice, smirking right back at him and moving almost instantly to pull his own boxers from his hips, over his knees and off his legs, then stuffed them down inside the pack as well. Skinny dipping with Mickey was not something he was about to turn down, no fucking way. He zipped the pack closed and stood with a warm breeze against his skin, then watched the other man drop his eyes back over his body with an approving lip bite. Mickey gestured toward his backpack, which Ian handed over, the only thing not packed away being their shared bottle of liquor, then stepped around him to move a few short paces down the ramp stone to a bed of reeds and bending slightly as he hid their belongings amongst them.

Ian's lips parted at first, then his head slowly began to tilt to one side, knitting his brow together with a lusty appeal, checking out a side of Mickey he hadn't been given the privilege of seeing yet. He noticed two distinct dimples low on his back, concealed beneath his tattoo ink and thought how perfectly the pads of his thumbs might fit inside them, causing him to bite his lip yet again and gaze even lower. The muscles of his ass were round, toned and looked firm to grasp, but soft to touch, smooth to feel and tender to sink his teeth into. 'Fuck,' his mind trembled as he felt the slightest swirl of tingles begin to gather inside his pelvis. He wanted him so fucking bad and his body looked just incredible, almost fighting to control himself.

But when the other man turned back, he managed to hide it pretty well, not wanting to be caught ogling him, though he didn't look away either, not wanting to. Mickey walked back toward him, the light from above them beginning to dim a little more and both men still couldn't stop their eyes from straying across each other's bodies as he got closer. The dark haired man halted his feet just beside the redhead, chewing his lip over a smirk and gave his head another pointed flick out toward the water. 

"You fuckin' ready then, man?" queried Mickey, "Sun's almost gone," he noted, sounding as if it really made a difference and shouldn't miss it. 

Ian's head and chest suddenly filled with the same excitement as before, a feeling he was quickly growing to relish more and more, never wanting it to end. He was more than ready. The redhead offered a very sure nod, smiling in response and looked out across the gentle flow of waves beyond. 

"Absolutely," responded Ian, then turned his face back to Mickey, "Show me where we're going," he directed with a chin tip.

Mickey smirked, let a quick, final glance drop over him, then turned his face away at last to take a single step up to the very tip of the rock, then leapt off in a shallow dive and disappeared into the water with a splash. Ian kept his eyes on him as he went, then smiled even wider the instant the other man emerged from the swarm of bubbles and ripples around him, seeing him shake his hair out some, then peer right back up the redhead mirroring his expression but squinting a single eye, invaded by a drop of water. 

Ian then glanced down, seeing the bottom where they were wasn't too far down, but Mickey seemed to be teetering on his toes with the water near the tops of his shoulders, so it was deep enough for him to jump too. He sucked in a deep breath, let it out and rolled back his shoulders, ready to go, ready to swim and see this mysterious new place Mickey seemed so eager to show him. So Ian took a step as well, moving to leap from the rock and dive shallowly like the other man had, when he suddenly heard Mickey's voice call up to him loud and abrupt, faltering him, knocking off his balance and sent him crashing down into the water instead.

The redhead shocked a bit from the cold, but still instantly bolted back up through the surface with a sudden jolt of confusion, furiously shaking his hair out and ran a palm down his face, having absolutely no idea what the other man had said to him or why. He blinked a few times and combed his fingers through his hair, slicking it back and away from his eyes. 

"What?" Ian sputtered a bit as tiny streams of water ran down over his face, "What did you say?" he asked as he struggled half blind. 

Then he fell confused again as he blinked once more, finally clearing the blur from his vision, only to see the man in front of him now grinning wide with amusement, then heard him slip a small laugh. The redhead raised a single perplexed eyebrow, not sure what was so funny and Mickey simply pressed his lips together, before he tipped his head back up toward the rock with a point. 

"I was just gonna remind ya to grab the fuckin' booze before ya jump, man," he said, causing Ian to peer back up toward it, seeing the dark, brown bottle still resting atop the little ledge where they'd left it to sit. 

"Oh," said Ian, dropping his shoulders and suddenly feeling a little silly for flopping into the lake the way he had, caught off guard or not.

He shot the dark haired man a small glance, then moved over to reapproach the slant of stone and lifted his arms to grasp firmly a hold of it's edge. The redhead then lifted himself into a pull up, muscles flexing into his movement with more than half his body coming out of the water, then reached out to snatch the neck of the bottle and dropped himself back down. Ian turned back away and when he did, his eyes landed on Mickey again, who was now bearing his smoothly familiar expression of impression and appeal. The other man smirked, green eyes sparkling between blue and closed the distance between them. 

Ian got close, really close, moving slowly into Mickey's space until they were nearly chest to chest, then handed over the booze, which the other man took, holding his gaze and curling his tongue behind his lip. They could both feel the tension that was still there, the hints of urge and craving that crept silently behind each gaze, no less powerful now than they had been any other time before. He paused for a moment, they each did, both just looking once more, before Mickey moved backward within the cool, clear liquid but just slightly, arching a single brow and his cheeks easily pulled back into a smirk. 

"Come with me," invited Mickey in a deep, smooth tone of voice that sent the faintest rush of sizzles and sparks speckling down Ian's spine, causing him to swallow, covering up the rise of a pleasurable shudder in his throat. 

The other man blinked as he moved backward a little more and the redhead followed like metal to a magnet, a moth to a flame, like Mickey had some effortless unseen power able to mindlessly pull him wherever he wanted him to go. But Ian wanted to go just as much, relishing the pull, like longing for the quench of a thirst that's long ached and knew it was true that this man could really take him anywhere. So, he went with him and together they swam further out into the lake.

The deeper they got, the water quickly changed, flowing more like a river with winding, twisting, swirling streams all rushing together into gentle, silky waves. There were parts that had more shallow stones speckled here and there, usually hugging the much larger, sometimes massive boulders that stuck out from the flow like their own little islands within the water, and other parts that dipped down deep. The pair of men passed through a few of these, most flat, broad and smooth, until they slowly approached another that bore a much paler color and had a much rougher, more jagged surface along the top. Mickey flashed Ian another small glance as they closed the distance over to it, with just enough light still left in the sky to brighten it beneath it's glow. 

But as they neared it, Ian couldn't help but notice the sound of water flowing and rushing a bit more quickly, moving, swishing and pouring somewhere nearby. He creased his brow as he began to peer around, but couldn't seem to locate it's source, not until they were nearly right up on it and the redhead saw a large, swirling whirlpool being sucked down into a wide, massive split within the stone. Ian slowed a bit and looked back over at Mickey with hesitation, confusion, pulling back with a bit of uncertainty. But the dark haired man simply reached out for him with his empty hand with a soft, reassuring smile and pulled him in closer to him, bringing him over to stand beside it with him, the redhead calming a bit from the other man's comforting grasp. Mickey leaned his face toward him some and squeezed his hand beneath the water. 

"You said ya fuckin' trust me, man," Mickey informed lowly, lightly, with a soft hopefulness within his voice, his eyes gentle again. Ian's eyes blinked with a flicker and he smiled a bit with a breath and an exhale, nodding just a little. 'Okay,' Ian thought, 'I can do that.'

They clung to the mass of rock within the water, moving along it to make their footing atop a thin, shallow ridge of stone that stuck out along it's side, right next to the churning, mixing swirl of water that disappeared within it's split. Ian relaxed just a bit more as they settled right beside it, feeling the suction to be not quite as strong as he thought, not quite so menacing and the other man's steady confidence helped a lot too. The dark haired man turned to lean his back against the rock, then twisted the cap atop their bottle and took a quick swig, before his eyes landed back in Ian. He thumbed his lip, then offered it over and Ian didn't hesitate to agree.

"S'pose I'll fuckin' slide through first," Mickey offered, the suggestion of the man letting himself be sucked away inside this vortex making Ian swallow a bit harder than he meant to, then let a small cough push past his lips. The dark haired man chuckled a bit at his reaction, then gave the booze a point, "Just send the fuckin' bottle through after me and I'll catch it," he added, but the redhead only widened his eyes as his brow shot up. 

"Are you serious?" Ian blurted in an incredulously disbelieving tone, "We're going inside that thing?" he asked with a point. The other man chuckled a bit louder and gave a very obvious nod. 

"Yeah, man," Mickey replied more than easily, and smirked at him, "You ain't gonna get stuck and you ain't gonna fuckin' drown, so don't fuckin' worry," he assured, then met his eyes quite deeply, "Trust me, man," Mickey advised again lightly, "You're gonna think it's really fuckin' cool," he promised.

Ian glanced from Mickey, to the whirlpool beside them, watching it twist, turn and flush down into the stone, hearing it pour out somewhere else inside, then took a small breath. He then looked back at Mickey, took another small sip of booze and screwed the cap back on with a bit of determination heating his brow, giving the other man a tip of his chin to proceed, earning him another smile. 

"Do I have to hold my breath?" the redhead queried, but the other man just glanced toward the churn and shook his head. 

"Nah," replied Mickey, "Not really," he said, then met his eyes once more, "It pushes ya through pretty fuckin' quick," he smirked. Ian then took a final breath, rolled back his shoulders and grasped the rock more firmly as they moved their feet a bit closer along the ridge, then nodded. 

"Okay," Ian accepted, willing to swallow his nerves, push down his uncertainty and trust the man, just like he said he would. He shot Mickey another smirk, trying to appear confident and gestured toward the whirlpool, "Let's do this," he said.

The dark haired man seemed to greatly approve of the redhead's change in attitude and that he wasn't backing down, which widened his smile quite a bit and he moved forward a bit more along the edge of the rock. Mickey then held on to a small cleft at the very peak of the large crevice within the mass of stone that the whirlpool sucked down into, and let his lower body swing over to submerge within the twisting flow. He held on a moment, only to flash Ian a final reassuring smile before he looked back in front of him, then released his grip, letting himself be washed down within the swirl and disappeared. 

Ian exhaled again as he stepped forward himself, listening as best he could to the muffled murmur of water behind the whirlpool and heard a faint splash, relaxing immensely from the sound of the other man apparently having made it all the way through. He waited a few seconds, then dropped his eyes to the bottle in his grasp, before he held onto the stone firmly with one hand and leaned forward to drop it through the churn. The redhead listened again through the flow, hearing the faintest gentle clinking of the bottle brushing and sliding along the stone, then disappeared, presumably having been caught by Mickey on the other side like he'd told him he would.

So, Ian set his sights on the same cleft at the top of the split that the other man had gotten a grasp on and slowly leaned his body out into the water, feeling the mild suction of the vortex pull his legs and hips inside it. It wasn't overpowering, but it was strong enough to make him grip his hands a little tighter, trying to be sure he didn't have a slip and let go before he meant to. He knew Mickey had told that he didn't need to hold his breath, but he still wanted to be ready and took a few quick ones as he peered down into the swirling twist of water, then let himself relax more fully. 'Trust me, man,' Mickey's voice echoed in his mind, filling him with another flush of confidence and determination and he released his grip, letting the water suck him through the stone, down and away from the last hints of daylight. 

His eyes were clamped tightly shut and he had the instinct to keep his arms up by his face and chest, so he did, feeling the back of his body gliding smoothly and swiftly along a cold, rippley slick of rock. The water rushed up over his body, ran through his hair and washed over him with a rush, before he felt a sudden gust of air on his skin, instantly speckling his flesh with goosebumps, then plunged him back into another pool with a splash. 

Ian couldn't feel the bottom when he sunk, but still managed to swim upward rather quickly, not opening his eyes again until he shot back through the water with a hard exhale, took a breath and ran a palm down his face. He shook his hair out, beginning to laugh at how much fun that actually was, almost like riding on a waterslide, then blinked a few times with a pause that dropped his expression, silenced his amusement and caused him to very slowly begin peering around the space he'd entered.

Mickey had brought him into a cave, but not just any cave. Not only was it much more spacious than it'd appeared from the outside, but it was lined top to bottom with crystals of all sizes and colors, glistening, sparkling and shimmering beautifully over every seeming visible inch of space within it. Some were long, sharp and pointed, while others looked softer and glittered delicately against them, clinging to the stone walls beneath. Even the large slick slide of rock he'd been washed down on seemed to be a long, massive formation of quartz, worn and smoothed from the waterfall that poured in from the whirlpool above. The edges of the space were the same, but with small platform-like ridges to sit on, all wrapped the large pool of water Ian had been deposited in. But what made it even more incredible, was that Ian now understood exactly why Mickey had been so eager, moved with a bit of a rush through the lake to bring him here before they missed the light, before they lost the sun, before they were too late to see... this. 

Within the rock that domed them in were holes, eroded little points in time that had worn through, speckled and scattered over their heads, letting in the light, making the collection of gems and crystals glimmer, glow and shine beneath each ray. And upon contact with each little trail of light, each crystal reflected even more, bouncing it's own dazzling little flashes of sparkles off other crystals as well, shining off the moving water and everything simply shimmered like a moving, swirling room of colors and stars. There were hardly words to describe how he felt laying his eyes on the unexpected sight in front of him, leaving him almost speechless as he gazed in a shocked and silent amazement, simply awestruck by it all.

The redhead slowly turned as his just continued to gaze, his lips slightly parted in silence, his eyes moving over the immense display of sparkles and facets, all illuminated beneath the trails of dimming golden sunlight from above. His hands swished and swirled softly at his sides and his feet kicked gently within the pool, then his eyes dropped a bit, landing on a sweetly awaiting Mickey, seated on a slanted shelf of quartz along the side, his lower half shallowly submerged. The dark haired man had a bright, questioning smile on his face and eyes that sparkled just as beautifully as every other gem that coated the walls. He had his fingers laced together in his lap, with the bottle of booze sitting atop the stone beside him, then upturned both palms and arched a quick, sharp eyebrow, spreading his arms a bit gesturing around with a slow sure nod on his chin. 

"See, man?" said Mickey, with a bit of excitement in his tone, sounding as if he really hoped that Ian was impressed with their new surroundings and not disappointed by it, then lowered his hands just a bit, but didn't withdraw them, "I told ya you'd think it was pretty fuckin' sweet," he grinned, "Ain't it?" he asked. 

But the other man simply blinked, still at an amazed loss for words, and looked away again briefly to let his eyes travel around again. The dark haired man paused for just a second, then dropped his hands a bit as he drew his brow together. 

"What, you don't fuckin' like it?" Mickey queried, his voice laced with a slight sudden disappointment of his own, but the redhead quickly met his eyes again and shook his head. 

"No, it's... It's not that," Ian replied quietly, unable to focus as well as he wanted, seeing how the speckles, sparkles and tiny scatters of light danced over the crisp, pale canvas of the other man's skin and the way they reflected off his eyes, "It's just," said the redhead as his own eyes flickered over Mickey's face with a pause, "So fucking beautiful," he breathed finally, referring to much more than just this hidden treasure trove they were currently concealed in, but to the man that'd brought him here as well, "I don't know what to say," admitted Ian. The other man's expression quite quickly and visibly perked back up at the response and he smirked at him quite handsomely. 

"Just say you fuckin' like it, man," Mickey directed lightly with a small shrug of his shoulders, then curled his tongue behind his lip, his piercing shining softly beneath the glow as well.

Then Ian exhaled and the flutters were there again, fizzling, humming and beginning to dance again, beginning to sing soft and low inside his throat, lightly rising further to tingle atop his tongue. He blinked again and smiled just slightly, the lightest, faintest tug of a grin pulling at the corner of his mouth, just before the redhead began to move again, crossing the pool and closing the space toward one of the most incredible men he thought he'd ever met. 

As Ian neared the water's edge, he reached out to slowly rub his hands from Mickey's knees up the length of his legs, grasping firmly over his thighs, then gripped his hips to lean him up into the slant of quartz to lie between them. He moved himself close and felt no resistance, even swearing he'd heard the other man's breath stutter and slow as he neared, his body now laying to rest a bit atop the other man's chest and stomach, leaving their faces to hover close as well. Their eyes connected and moved together as Mickey's hands slowly smoothed up over Ian's biceps and grasped, waiting.

Every time the redhead thought that Mickey couldn't possibly do anything else to impress and amaze him even more, the man had clearly proven him wrong, still quite taken aback even now as each little reflective speckle of colored shimmer swam over every surface around them, swarming them and submerging them within it's trance. It was more than he ever could have imagined and Ian's heart swelled the longer they simply remained as they were, taking it in, basking within it's soft, swirling static. Ian wanted again to show him so very badly how he felt, to tell him, to make sure he knew, the feeling growing more and more powerful and relentless as time passed. There was no one else like Mickey.

He moved his hands further over his hips, then wrapped his arms around the other man's waist, leaning into him closely, intently, peering deep into his eyes and tried to express all that he truly wanted to in whatever way he could. 

"Mickey, I love it, really," said Ian, in as truly honest and genuine tone as he could possibly muster, "So fucking much," he insisted with praise, the tips of his fingers curling gently against the warm, wet flesh of the other man's back, "Thank you for all this," he added softly, lowly, meaning every single word he said, "It's been incredible," breathed Ian, "Best fucking time of my life," he said. 

Mickey's face pulled into a smile, looking surprised by Ian's words, but flattered, pleased, happy, the corners of his cheeks pulling wide into a grin full of straight, perfect teeth, his eyes fondly twinkling over the redhead's face. His palms then moved as well, sliding further up the other man's arms, past his shoulders and wrapped around his back with just the slightest squeeze, pulling him closer into his chest. Their bodies pressed together comfortably as they lay and the dark haired man bent his knees a bit, framing his legs around Ian's sides as the ripples within the water mixed with the sparkles around them. 

"You don't gotta fuckin' thank me, man," Mickey countered in the same tone, "I wanted to fuckin' do this shit with you," he informed him as Ian felt the other man lean his legs in a bit closer to his body, then saw him take the smallest gesture of a glance around the cave, but instantly found Ian's eyes again, "Never fuckin' brought nobody here before," revealed Mickey, "Not even fuckin' Mandy," he said. His gaze lingered again, seemingly taking in every single little feature of the other man's face, then spoke a bit lower. 

"Wanted to fuckin' show you though," said Mickey, and Ian's breath slowed in a way it never had when the rest of the man's words fell from his lips, peering into rich blue eyes that held a sweet but heavy gaze, "Just somethin' fuckin' about ya, I guess," he said. 

Ian's heart suddenly swelled even more, surprised, touched and nearly speechless again, taking everything it had inside him not to simply plunge his lips into the other man's face, indulge in his lips and mouth with every single eager, longing emotion that filled him in this very instant. Instead he let himself smile yet again, but more openly this time, freely, floating atop a wave of happiness that no other feeling could ever conquer, then gazed right back into Mickey's eyes, just needing him in some way, right now. 

"Can I please fucking kiss you again?" the redhead asked, his voice drenched with want and craving. The dark haired man chuckled, split a smirk and arched a single eyebrow. 

"Why the fuck do you keep askin' me permission?" Mickey queried back with a grin like there was only one obvious answer. 

So, Ian didn't pause or hesitate to accept it, leaning his face in, linking their lips and tongues together and their grasps around each other squeezed more tightly. And for a while, they lay content within the quiet, the soft flowing rush of water filling the cave as the sunlight dimmed more through the openings above, shadowing them within the shimmer. Neither man seemed to have any intent to move, for at least a little while.

The pair stayed embraced for some time with slowly caressing lips and tentatively tracing fingers, before they paused once more to gaze a moment, then decided to swim around a bit, relaxing again, talking again but staying close all the while. They kept their voices fairly low as the space around them bore the slightest echo from their sounds, mixing with the flowing fall beside them, staying more than content as they began passing the booze between them once again. 

The redhead had asked at one point how Mickey had come to discover this mesmerizingly stunning place, only to find out that apparently Vick had told Mickey about it, having found it over thirty years ago and had shared it with only Agnes, back during the now long gone days from when they were much younger. And as far as Mickey knew, no one else was even aware of it's existence at all, causing Ian to feel even more unique and special to the other man that he'd chosen to share it with him, only him, warming his heart once more and filling his entire body with another soothing, coursing wave of delightful, airy little flutters.

But then he felt his heart suddenly twinge with a ping of guilt, feeling once again like he should share more himself, reveal more, confide in Mickey a bit so their developing relationship didn't begin to feel too one sided. Sure, he'd shared a bit of his insecurities earlier about his artwork, but just like he thought before, that subject had been relatively mild to speak of. What was much more difficult was the conversation they'd had shortly before that, about his sometimes extremely fragile mental state, his unfortunately incurable illness, his bipolar disorder. But still, Ian had gotten through that too, even after he'd been so sure he wouldn't be able to. The other man had even turned out to be much more accepting and understanding about it than he ever could have hoped for. The redhead felt he owed it to Mickey to offer more of himself, to open up, about whatever it was the man wanted to know about him. And right now as the booze they continued to share buzzed lightly through his veins, glossed over his eyes and loosened his muscles out, Ian thought he could tell him really anything. 

They parted a bit, but didn't separate completely, flashing each other smiles, holding hands beneath the flow and shared a few more soft, chuckley kisses before they swam to the side of the water to sit along the partially sunken slant of quartz at it's edge. Mickey took a long, satisfying swig of booze, clearly a bit tipsy, feeling it as well, but had a tolerance like Ian did and remained fairly sharp and still within his proper mind. He passed it with a smirk and Ian grasped it with a smile, tipping it back to take a drink as well, the booze a little more than halfway gone by now. The redhead swallowed easily, his throat having numbed to the sting of it's bite, then let his eyes fall back to the man beside him, still just thinking. He paused as he did, then licked his lips slowly and gave a single blink.

"You know, Mickey, this really means a lot to me," Ian said, holding the bottle atop a single knee, then gestured around the cavern with a slight wave with his other hand, "Taking me to all these places and sharing so much stuff with me about your life," he added and the other man listened with the slightest trace of shyness in his eyes, "I don't want you to think I'm taking any of it for fucking granted," he said with surety, his gaze deep and focused, "It really means so fucking much," Ian repeated with rephrase, his voice laced heavily with an admiring appreciation. The dark haired man ran the tip of his tongue across his lower lip, pausing at the corner of his mouth, then curled it behind his cheek as both lips pressed into smirk and he gave a small laugh. 

"You gettin' all fuckin' sappy on me now, man?" Mickey queried with a tease in his voice and a soft, playful grin, but the redhead only smiled and insisted.

"Shut the fuck up," Ian retorted lightly with a chuckle, then passed their liquor over, his smile not fading from his face a bit, "Just telling you how I fucking feel, asshole," he quipped with absolutely no heat, earning him a laugh in response, then Mickey shrugged as he took the bottle from him.

"Ah, I'm just givin' ya shit, Ian," he relented calmly with a slight swat of his empty hand, not quite moving to take a drink just yet, "To tell ya the fuckin' truth, I'm really not much of a fuckin' talker, never have been," Mickey confessed, then met his eyes and gave a brief gesture around with a vague twirling point of a forefinger, "I don't ever fuckin' do shit like this either," he informed him also, then paused as their gazes moved together once again, before he gestured between them with the same finger, "Or this," Mickey added in a tone that was much softer and the flutters sang a little louder. 

"I told ya, I just really fuckin' like you, man," he reminded with a small, affectionate smile, then dropped gaze for just a second to reach his hand over, place it atop Ian's on the rock and gently lace their fingers together, "So, I figured I'd fuckin' try," explained Mickey as his sight moved back to his face and chuckled again lightly, "Anythin' worth doin' is worth doin' fuckin' right, ain't it?" he wondered aloud, shrugging his shoulders once more, "I fuckin' think so anyway," said Mickey.

Ian smiled, genuinely flattered and the airy little melody floating inside his chest pulsed in such a wonderful way, the man's words reinforcing his intentions even more to reciprocate, to give more of himself, to Mickey. Green eyes flickered downward to land on their gently caressing hands, watching as their fingers curled and twisted together within the shallow water that covered the stone they sat on, then took a subtle breath. 

"I wanna try too," Ian replied quietly with just the slightest grip, not yet looking up, "I wanna do this right," he added more firmly, then finally lifted his face to meet Mickey's gaze, so soft and so understanding, before he went for it, no longer wanting to hold anything back.

"You've told me so much and I feel like there's still so much you don't know about me," noted Ian, then grasped his hand a little tighter, "I want you to know me, Mick," he said, then looked at him very seriously, the other man still giving him his full and undivided attention, "There's gotta be something else you've wondered about?" asked Ian, fully prepared for whatever it may be, "Anything," he said. Then the dark haired man squeezed back, his thumb now beginning to rub lightly over the redhead's hand and Ian saw him smirk.

"There's all kinds a fuckin' shit I wonder about you, man," Mickey informed him without a shred of shame in his tone, then arched an eyebrow, looking him over a bit, "You're like a big, red fuckin' mystery," he said with a tease and smiled again softly as blue eyes flickered back into green, "I wanna know fuckin' everythin'," he reminded. The other man bit his lip and tilted his head. 

"First thing that comes to mind," the redhead challenged lightly, but the other man suddenly began to chew his lip as he thought about it, hesitating now. He looked away a bit and raised the booze bottle to his lips. 

"I don't wanna be a fuckin' buzzkill, man," countered Mickey, then tipped his head back to take a gulp of liquor and scratched his nose as he swallowed. Ian creased his brow a bit, his wonder and curiosity quickly rising, causing him to lean over some, still looking over the other man's face and gave his palm another grasp. 

"Mickey," Ian pressed slowly, trying to urge this unknown query out of him, the tone of his voice causing the other man to turn his face back and look at him again, still hesitating some, but clearly debating, considering, thinking it over carefully. He then exhaled a bit through his nose, tapped his thumb against the dark brown bottle in his grip and slowly tipped his head.

"I've kinda been wonderin' what the fuckin' deal is with Malibu Barbie," said Mickey, causing the redhead to deeply crease his brow and screw up his face with confusion. 

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Ian asked back and the other man chuckled. 

"Malibu Ken?" Mickey corrected with question, "I don't fuckin' know what he prefers with that stupid fuckin' bun on top of his head," he laughed, then met his eyes again, waving his hand a little more, "Ya know, your ex," he rephrased quite bluntly and Ian stiffened a bit, "Pretty boy jock strap whose got a fuckin' starin' problem," said Mickey. The other man slowly tipped his chin in realization and nodded. 

"Oh," Ian replied, suddenly feeling a bit caught off guard, "That," he said, "You wanna know what happened," the redhead stated, knowing there was no question to it.

"Well, I'd fuckin' like to, yeah," Mickey admitted honestly, but then shook his head as well, "But not if it's just like way too fuckin' personal," he added, clearly not intending to pry or invade the other man, but was still curious, which Ian couldn't blame him for being, having not revealed much about Jason at all really yet. 

The question was definitely personal, but after all the deeply secretive and personal things Mickey had shared about his own life, Ian still thought it only fair that he should as well. He raised a hand to his head and combed his fingers through his hair, slicking it back along his scalp a little better, then dropped it with a slight press of his lips. 

"Well," the redhead began, speaking slowly from being in absolutely no rush to recall everything that'd happened with his ex within the last year, but was still willing to, for Mickey, "I met him when I was dancing," Ian said with a bit of an exhale, then hesitated a bit, "And when I was doing that, I wasn't always in the right mind, did a lot of drugs and shit," he explained, then looked to see Mickey's attention on him once again, wanting to know and focused on nothing else, "I was pretty fucked up back then," he said, "All the fucking time."

Ian paused again, just trying to remember, trying to recall the memories from so many months ago, recollections that were foggy, muffled and drenched in a thick haze, distorting and contorting most of them into distantly scattered fragments at best. But he knew most were no longer important any way and didn't bother straining himself much in clearing up each nameless face from his extremely unstable past, letting them be forgotten as quick as they'd come. The redhead took another breath, trying to keep this as simple as he could but still as honest as he could manage, tilting his head a bit and upturning a palm within his lap. 

"I um, I wasn't taking any sort of medication yet at the time, so I had mood swings that were all over the place and I did a lot of stupid shit just on impulse, not ever really thinking fucking twice about it," Ian continued, then reached to rub the back of his neck a bit awkwardly, "It always got me into bullshit," he informed him quietly, a hint of shame lacing his voice and he tipped his head to the other side, "That's kinda how everything happened with Jason," said Ian, then creased his brow suddenly and shrugged a bit, "At least in the beginning," he added, his forehead crinkling more deeply in thought.

"Since he met me when I was manic," he continued once more, then paused to meet the other man's eyes for a second, "That's like a high spell," Ian explained, Mickey nodding as he listened, his own brow creased some as he sat beside him in silence, "I think, since I was manic back then, he just thought that's how I was all the time and it's just who I am. He didn't realize yet that the highs and lows are just part of going through the motions, that they're temporary," he elaborated, then dropped his voice some again, along with his gaze, feeling a bit of shame lingering inside chest once more, "But for a while there, I guess it really fucking was just how I was, since I wasn't taking any medicine to help," Ian breathed quietly with confession, not liking to think of these times at all.

"Anyway, I'd moved in with him right after we started hooking up because I was just so ready to finally get the fuck out of my house for the first real time in my life and he'd offered pretty quick anyway," Ian said, then glanced over just slightly to see the other man's hand offering over a dark, brown bottle and he took it, appreciating the gesture. He then took a sip, set the booze down between his knees and let out a sigh. "Looking back now I think anyone could have fucking offered and I'd have said yes though," said Ian, then shrugged a shoulder, "All he and I ever really did was party and fuck and eventually not even that," he exhaled again, almost regretting that he was actually talking about this, but the other man still seemed interested, so he just kept trying to be as clear and honest about it all as he could. His voice stopped again for a second, then proceeded, remembering the next memory much more vividly. 

"Then one night my older sister invites me over to the house for dinner and for once I don't turn her down," said the redhead, then shook his head self-loathingly, "I used to do that shit a lot back then," Ian said sounding quite regretful of the fact, "So they hardly ever saw me," he tipped his head back to take a swig, "And when they did, it wasn't always great," he swallowed. 

"But I went this time," said Ian, then set the bottle atop his knee, "And when I get there, she and my older brother sit me down for like a fucking intervention kinda conversation," he said, tapping the booze lightly with his fingertips, "Wanted me to go the clinic for a consultation and shit. Said they were concerned about me and I was starting to remind them of our mom," he told him a little more quietly, just before he pressed his lips together a bit and shook his head at himself, one hand giving a loose wave, "Really didn't listen to any of the shit they had to say though, because at the time I still thought I was fine, thought they were just worrying for nothing," he curled his fingers between Mickey's once more and dropped his face a bit, "I was so fucking wrong though," breathed Ian. He exhaled again and gave his forehead another rub, then glanced at Mickey, seeing no judgment in his features before he spoke again, ignoring his feelings of exposure. 

"This uh, also happened to be during the once-in-a-blue-moon time when my mother had come home for a while," revealed Ian, trying not to cringe with embarrassment, "I hadn't seen her in a really long time, so I was pretty excited," he added, then his voice fell a bit lower once again, "And I think that's what did it," he said.

He looked back at Mickey as the shimmer of the gems painted his face with a soft melody of sparkle beneath the slowly growing moonlight, the reflections off the water swishing and mixing each little trail of glimmer. His expression stayed very neutral for the most part, but still bore a gentle, sincere understanding, patiently taking in his words and Ian began relaxing a little more for it, but still took another small sip of liquor to help him along. The redhead swallowed, licked his lips and kept his face toward him. Though his eyes wandered rather vaguely as he spoke again, re-envisioning the day he was speaking of, the day Ian really thought had been the thing that'd changed him forever, that day with his mother so many months ago.

"She was just so...," Ian tried to place to right word, but couldn't seem to find a very good one, "Off," he said finally, it being the closest he could manage, scrunching his face some, "Like, more off than usual for her," he continued with a bit of difficulty, not quite sure how to explain the woman's typical personality, then upturned his palm again. 

"My mother has never exactly been a mentally stable person," Ian elaborated, his eyes moving back toward his companion a bit more and he felt the man's thumb brush over his own just slightly, comforting him a bit, "She knows that she's unstable too, but she doesn't believe in medication or therapy or anything like that, so her illness just keeps culminating over time," he explained, then his face smoothed back out some, but only slightly, his features lingering with a lace of despair, "And I think maybe she like finally let it fucking break her," Ian said quietly, meeting Mickey's eyes again through the darkening glisten. He held his gaze but a moment, then dropped them yet again, landing upon their palms embraced between them, comforting again a bit.

"Right away she started acting really weird. We thought maybe she was drunk or something," said Ian, his eyes squinting with perplexity, "Like she hadn't realized how much time had passed since she'd been home last," he recalled, remembering the woman's bewilderment and confusion when they'd explained everything to her, shaking his head just a bit and tilting it as he thought. 

"She didn't realize that both my brother and I had already graduated from high school, so she was fucking shocked to hear he'd been in college for two years," Ian noted for example, then tilted his head the other way, "Or that my sister had gotten married and started having kids of her own," he said as well, then scoffed through his nose, "Thought my youngest brother was still wearing diapers, even though he was already in fucking grade school," Ian added, his thumb rubbing back along Mickey's, then rolled his eyes a bit, almost scoffing again.

"At first she was just so fucking happy that everyone was doing so well, but then it changed really fucking fast," said Ian, the scene she'd made at their dinner table quite vivid in his mind again, "She just cried, like hysterically," he revealed, then shook his head again, "Begging and pleading for fucking forgiveness, tears and snot and shit everywhere, the whole nine yards," he illustrated with disdain and a mildly discomforting disgust in his tone, then let the booze bottle slide off his knee to rest more in his lap, hearing the glass clink lightly against the stone beneath his legs, "But then she changed again, like flipping a fucking switch," the redhead snapped his fingers, "Got all pissed off and tried to turn the blame on us," Ian said with a frustrated brow crease, "Like her missing out on everything was somehow our fault and she was just some kinda victim of fucking abandonment," he tried to control the sneer of resentment in his voice, "Even though she was the one who took off in the first place," he said.

Ian tipped his head back again, raising the liquor bottle back up to his lips, willing to take a larger gulp this time, then swallowed and offered it to Mickey. But the other man just gave his own head the slightest shake, tipping his chin back toward the redhead, as if he were telling him that he could have as much as he wanted, then remained within his quiet, listening silence. Ian lowered it, reading over the man's face, then set it down beside them instead with an exhale, willing himself to slow down a bit, before returning to his train of thought. 

"Anyway, she made this huge scene, threw a plate full of spaghetti at my sister, even tried to flip the whole fucking table and everything," Ian elaborated, the embarrassment returning again, but Mickey still didn't seem to be judging in the slightest, so he ran his fingertips back through his hair again and held their eye contact, "None of us could get her to calm down or listen to anything," he said, "Then my brother and I actually had to physically remove her when she lunged at my sister with a fork. Just like picked her up, carried her outside and dropped her down on the back steps, still kicking and screaming the whole time," he informed him, the shame of his relation to the woman still heavily lacing his voice and face, then trailed off a bit, the crease in his brow deepening, pausing for a brief moment before he spoke again. 

"The entire fucking time I just remember thinking, 'Is this what they see when they look at me?'" he wondered quietly, green eyes twinkling between blue, "'And if they don't see it yet, how long until they do?'" continued Ian, "'Is this what I'm gonna become?'" he added, his voice falling painfully low, hardly above a whisper as if these were questions that still crossed his mind more often than he'd ever admit, then blinked as he felt the other man's grip squeeze more tightly within his own, "It really fucking freaked me out," said Ian. Their fingers moved together again and Mickey looked at him very seriously, speaking in an immeasurably sure tone. 

"I can't even fuckin' imagine you ever doin' some shit like that, man," he said with confidence, then peered over his face very thoughtfully, arching an informative eyebrow, "Just because she's your fuckin' mother doesn't mean you're any fuckin' thing like her," Mickey assured firmly, "Just like I ain't nothin' like my fag hatin' son of a bitch of an ol' man," he said. Ian gave a small nod of acknowledgement, appreciating the man words, but still gave his head a tilt. 

"Well, my whole life all I've ever heard when it comes to my mom is how similar we are," Ian countered to explain, "And with a lot of things, it's true," he admitted with a small shrug, "So, I thought maybe we are with this too," he breathed, then hesitated a bit, pressing his lips together as he hoped what he was saying didn't change the man's mind about him.

"Bipolar disorder isn't the kind of thing that can always be handled on it's own though," he said, watching the other man's expression, hoping that he wasn't digging himself into a grave, "If you don't get help with it, the shit can fucking change you," Ian said, "Like really fucking change you," he emphasized, "And seeing her like that fucking scared me, didn't wanna have the chance of ending up like that too," he said and Mickey nodded with understanding, his fingers still softly caressing Ian's while they sat together.

"So, I took my brother and sister up on their suggestion," Ian finalized, "Went to the clinic the next day to talk with someone about everything," he said, causing the dark haired man to split a small but proud smirk and tipped his chin. 

"That's fuckin' great, man," said Mickey, sounding like he really, truly thought so, like he meant it, "Don't sound like some shit your ma woulda ever done," he noted, earning him a nod. 

"No, probably not," agreed Ian, then took a deep breath and exhaled, dropping his shoulders again a bit, "It was still fucking hard though," he confessed, "Finding out that they were right and I had it too," he continued, "Officially getting that diagnosis and getting medication set up," Ian said, nodding his chin as spoke, then reached to rub his neck again, "It was a lot at once," he exhaled again, then looked back at Mickey once more, "But I knew that I had to," he said.

Then Ian felt sort of awkward again and paused, not quite sure how much he wanted to keep talking about it, knowing the subject was now going to fall back to where it started, back to the question Mickey had asked him, the man he'd apparently been wondering about and a person that the redhead simply hated to think about. But he still felt he owed it to Mickey to continue, to tell him what happened and ease his curiosity. So he looked away for a moment and swallowed his nerves again.

"It was most difficult in the beginning," he said, upturning a palm, "Trying to get into a routine with my meds, and I started seeing a therapist to help straighten my head out," elaborated Ian, "Made a lot of fucking changes that I thought would be good for me," he emphasized with a sigh, then pressed his lips together with distaste, his tone growing a bit stiff, "But um, Jason was never exactly supportive about any of it," Ian revealed, causing the man beside him to frown a bit at his last sentence, creasing his brow with a confused concern and arched an eyebrow. 

"Not fuckin' supportive about what?" asked Mickey like such a notion bothered him quite a bit, then upturned a palm of his own, "I mean, bipolar disorder is a fuckin' illness, like bein' fuckin' sick, right?" he raised his eyebrows a bit and the other man offered an expression of agreement, so Mickey dropped his palm a bit, his brow keeping it's crease, "So takin' medicine, seein' a fuckin' therapist and all that shit is so you can get better," he added, like it made sense, "What the fuck is wrong with that?" queried Mickey. 

"Too big of a change, I guess?" Ian offered, still not entirely sure even now, "I wasn't manic any more?" he thought further, then shrugged yet again and shook his head just slightly, looking into the deep set of sapphire irises beside him, "I just wasn't the same person anymore," Ian stated with more surety, knowing that was the much broader reason why his ex had such a problem with him trying to change for the better. It was the change in itself that'd caused all their issues since. 

"I stopped doing drugs, except smoking bud because it helps my medication in calming my mood swings, helps me sleep better and gives me an appetite," he explained, then made a vague gesture to the liquor bottle in his other side, "Still drink a little bit, but not nearly as much as I used to. Never get black out or pass out drunk anymore and I'm way harder on my limits," Ian elaborated further, with more quiet, understanding little nods from his companion, his thumb still rubbing over the redhead's hand all the while and he sighed again. 

"Since all we ever did was party and fuck," Ian reminded uncomfortably, "It was a big fucking issue when I didn't wanna go out to the fucking clubs with him anymore," he said and the dark haired man's expression harshened just a bit, like the actions of Ian's ex genuinely upset him, but stayed quiet still, "Even quit my job dancing because it just got way too triggering and my therapist encouraged me to for the same reason," said Ian, then relaxed his face a bit, even managing a momentary smirk, "Felt really fucking great to do that, by the way," he emphasized, but then his smirk dropped and disappeared, his eyes rolling back with an irritated flicker, "He was just fucking pissed about it though," he said.

"Started a fucking fight, called me fucking stupid for quitting without having another job ready, so I couldn't help on bills for a little while," scoffed Ian, still finding the other man's motives so incredibly selfish, then arched his brow and tipped it. 

"I met Jesse around the same time though," Ian added suddenly, then gave a more ironically amused scoff, "At my fucking therapist's office actually," he said, then met Mickey's eyes, his bearing a slightly peculiar expression, "He goes for social anxiety, believe it or not," Ian chuckled and the other man's brow rose with surprise, "And look how fucking far he's come," he waved vaguely out toward the direction of Warp Fest, then dropped his arm, along with his eyes, reaching for the booze to raise and take a sip. 

"And uh, I'd mentioned to him that I'd been looking for a new job or whatever and he told me the diner that he worked at needed more hands," Ian said, causing the other man's lips to part and his chin to raise a bit with realization, "So he helped me out with finding work again," he recalled gratefully, before his face pulled into another frown, "That wasn't fucking good enough for Jason though," he added with annoyance, "Because it didn't pay nearly as well as dancing did, even though it still covered bills." The dark haired man frowned as well and cocked his head.

"Fuck that motherfucker, man," directed Mickey with bite in his tone, "He'd rather you get fuckin' paid to shake your ass for fairies and queens all night, instead a takin' coffee orders and scramblin' fuckin' eggs?" he spat incredulously, like the he already had half a mind to go find the man himself and back-hand him into the fucking ground, then readjusted his grasp within Ian's hand, offering a firm, clear squeeze. 

"Sounds like you're way fuckin' better off," he observed, "You don't fuckin' deserve that shit, man," said Mickey. Ian squeezed back, grateful again for the man's understanding, but still looked away a bit once again, a twinge of painful disturb nagging in the back of his mind. 

"That's not even the worst of it," informed Ian quietly, trying not to feel too upset by the memories of disgust and embarrassment, of humiliation and let his eyes trail across the sparkles along the walls. 

The other man's forehead crinkled once more, but he didn't push or prod, just held his grasp, stayed quiet and waited, patient for whatever it was, not at all wanting to rush him. The redhead swallowed another cringe with a blink and took another small sip of booze, before passing it with more insistence, causing Mickey to finally take it without any protest or argument, taking a gulp as well. Then Ian set aside a bit of his pride, exhaled slowly and elaborated.

"For a little while, my medication was giving me some... Problems," Ian began quietly, unable to fight the urge in staying vague, then dropped his gaze a bit more, "And he was really fucking belittling about it," he said, but the dark haired man didn't seem to understand, trying to read his expression and decipher his tone, causing him to arch another curious eyebrow. 

"Problems?" repeated Mickey with perplexity, frowning again as he spoke, "What kinda fuckin' problems?" he asked. The redhead swallowed again and conceded a bit, trusting that the man wouldn't hold it against him, hoping he wouldn't.

"Problems..." Ian tried again, closing his eyes tight for just a second, "Getting it up," he cringed as he forced the words off his tongue, then opened them, not quite able to look back over just yet. But when he did, he didn't see any expression of mocking or pity, but instead one of surprise, the other man dropping his sight for only an instant, then shot him another smooth smirk.

"Well, you sure as fuck don't got that fuckin' problem anymore," noted Mickey with a very appealing arch of his brow and bit his lip ring slightly, flirting with him a little and perhaps trying to make him feel better about it. 

Ian blinked, amazed that Mickey was nothing if not understanding yet again, even about this and he really did feel a little better. The redhead let himself smile back a bit as the tension he'd felt dispersed some and he gave a sure, confirming shake of his head. 

"Nope," said Ian, a bit of confidence returning to his voice that the other man seemed to like, and tipped his head some, "Didn't last for very long either," he added, wanting to clarify more, kinda feeling the need to in the hopes of sparing some of that displaced pride of his, "Got a med change and haven't had an issue since," Ian assured, then tilted his head to the other side, not quite finished with what he'd been saying. 

"But uh, before I got that all fixed up, like I said he was really fucking belittling about it and always made it into a huge deal, which was just fucking humiliating," he continued, then reached to rub his hand over the back his neck, a bit more roughly this time and flickered his eyes toward Mickey, not quite able to look at him as he spoke due to feeling unbelievably awkward about it, but kept going, "I even tried compensating with him," Ian said, then gestured with a loose wave of his hand, "You know, switching it up," he clarified, then gave him head a single shake, "But that wasn't good enough either," he said. Mickey took another drink, then moved to pass the bottle, which Ian took easily, taking another as well. 

"Then one night we're trying to, you know," the redhead gave another uncommitted hand wave, which Mickey gave a quick acknowledging nod to, and Ian shook his head a bit more harshly, "And it's just not fucking working," he said, "He gets all fucking frustrated, but I mean, I was fucking frustrated too," Ian continued, feeling the familiar prickling heat on his brow as he recalled the memory, then clenched his jaw as he stuck his chin out some, "Then he says to me that a top with a limp dick isn't worth shit," he said, earning him a rather angered expression from Mickey that said 'Are you fucking kidding me?' and he nodded with confirmation. 

"It made me fucking snap," said Ian, still just as pissed off about the comment now as he was when Jason had spat it at him and stuck his chin up more, "Punched him right in the fucking nose," he said, feeling absolutely no shame or guilt about it now and the dark haired man began nodding thickly with approval with a heated intensity behind his eyes. 

"Aye, damn fuckin' right, man," Mickey praised, "Shithead's fuckin' lucky you only gave him one," he quipped a bit further, then tipped his own chin, "Shoulda beat the motherfucker 'til he couldn't fuckin' piss straight," he said.

"I'd never fucking hit him at all before," Ian countered, "I couldn't even believe I shoved him the other night," he added, then shrugged a single shoulder, "They were both sort of just mindless reactions," he said. The other man arched his eyebrow a bit more at that and split another smirk that seemed a bit more vengeful. 

"You still got plenty a fuckin' chances though," noted Mickey, then gave him a slight nudge in the arm with him elbow, his tone light, but still quite serious in his intentions, "Aye, you don't even gotta fuckin' touch him," he offered, "You wanna go fuckin' find that asshole?" he queried with a point of his thumb, "I'll make him eat his own fuckin' teeth," he said with surety. The redhead scoffed with amusement, but shook his head. 

"No," Ian replied, "It's okay," he breathed, "That's not even what ended it," Ian revealed suddenly, then blinked with another exhale, "Well not exactly," he added, then dropped his gaze to their liquor and raised it for a swig, swallowing with a lip smack, the dark haired man beside him falling quiet again to listen. 

"After I hit him, I took off and went to my sister's," he said, "Went back home," Ian rephrased, then swayed the bottle atop his knee before pausing to tap it a bit, pursing his lips some, "And right after I got there, I fell into a really bad low," he continued, then met Mickey's eyes again, "It's like a really, really intense depression," explained the redhead, the other man bearing a soft expression of understanding in his gaze and gave a slight affirming chin tip. Ian looked away again, "I couldn't even get off the fucking couch for over a week," he confessed a bit quietly, but Mickey just grasped his hand a little tighter, twisting their fingers together again, trying to silently comfort and ground him, which helped even more than he thought it could, "My sister took me back to the clinic and called Jesse who saved my ass and covered my shifts at the diner for me. That's when I got my med change," said Ian, "Saw my therapist," he added with a head tilt, "She suggested I stay at my sister's for a while, so I did," he continued, then paused a bit, feeling just a little pitiful now. 

"After about another week, I really started thinking about everything," said Ian, then rolled his eyes at himself a bit, hoping that he wasn't going to sound completely pathetic, "I really felt bad for hitting him," he admitted shamefully, "Even though I've always kinda known he deserved it," he added, then let his shoulders drop a bit once more, "But I wanted to apologize," said Ian, "So I went back over there to do it in person."

He then thought again for a moment, not quite sure how to feel about it all now, perhaps angry still, like he normally was when the memory passed his mind, but perhaps now he was just grateful it was all over, no matter how it'd ended. Though the whole thing still made Ian absolutely despise Jason as a person and that feeling would never change, not even now and no matter how much time had passed. Ian at least knew that he hadn't deserved how the other man had treated him, how he betrayed him and refused to feel ashamed about it. He pressed his lips together a bit, then pursed them, before cocking his head and crinkling his forehead. 

"When I got there though," said Ian, "He was there with someone else," he mentioned, his lips pressing a bit more, "In the middle of the living room," the redhead specified, "Bent over the couch that I fucking paid for," he said finally, then turned to meet the other man's face, looking as if he were really truly trying to control his anger, before softening just the slightest bit within his eyes, hating that this other man had treated him this way and clearly wanted to do something about it. 

"And you're fuckin' tellin' me you didn't beat the livin' shit outta him then either?" queried Mickey, "Or the prick he was fuckin'?" he asked and the redhead shook his head again. 

"No," replied Ian, then let a small, but rather dark chuckle slip from his lips, "He didn't even fucking notice me standing there at first," he said, then cocked his head some, "And when he finally did, it was more of a deer-in-the-headlights kinda moment and he froze just like I did," explained Ian, then exhaled a bit, "Then I just turned around and fucking took off. I know he yelled after me at least, but I didn't give a shit," he said. The dark haired man nodded again, their fingers forever mingling together between them, comforting Ian still, knowing deep down that the actions of his ex were in no way his fault, "Waited a few days until I knew he was at work, then my brother helped me move all my shit outta there and go back home," Ian finalized, before letting himself take another small drink of booze, then creased his brow one last time, "I let that asshole keep the fucking couch though," he said. 

Mickey tipped his chin with a small grunt of agreement at that last remark, but still stayed quiet for a moment and Ian stayed quiet too, his eyes lingering with a lazy blink upon the bottle in his hand, not sure what else to say now. The man had wanted to know what'd happened with Jason and he'd told him, he'd let it out, along with quite a bit more about his life than he'd really expected to. Ian felt a little exposed, but he didn't regret it, actually sort of proud of himself for being able to open up as much as he had, just like he'd intented to. But still the silence lingered for another moment and for just an instant it made him unbelievably nervous, not knowing what the other man thought of him now, if there was a difference from before. He just had to know. So he gathered his courage and turned his face, looking over to land his sights on Mickey who just happened to be peering right back over at him. 

It seemed a bit harder to see him clearly at first, the cavern around them having darkened even more as night had fallen outside, but the moonlight still trickled down, gently tickling each crystal and gem, and draping the space in the slightest purply hue, still glowing ever so slightly. The subtle little streams of sparkles that danced along the water shone over his face, illuminating the blue of his eyes and swirling their shimmer beneath the blackened shadows that veiled them. Then Mickey leaned toward him just slightly, the piercings in his lip and brow reflecting within the moon-haze, and his gaze was deep and warm. 

"You do know that you didn't fuckin' deserve any a that asshole's bullshit, right?" Mickey queried softly, his voice gentle and low, and his fingers gave a grasp, "None of it," he added firmly, insistently, then let his gaze move from the redhead's eyes to scan slowly over the rest of his face, delicately admiring every little feature that he saw, "You're worth so much fuckin' more than that, man," he said, causing the other man's entire demeanor to soften from the words. Ian split just the smallest smile as the flutters filled his head and swelled around his heart, his fingers grasping back.

"Thank you," Ian replied, his voice laced thickly in sincerity, then sighed a bit with a head tip, "To be fair, I don't even know why it lasted as long as it did, really," he said, then shrugged a bit, his voice staying quiet, "I think maybe I just didn't want to be alone, wanted that support from somebody," said Ian, just before pushed out another small scoff and combed his hair back with his fingertips. 

"But it's not like I've ever been with anyone who actually gave a shit about me or any of my fucking problems anyway," Ian breathed, "So I'm not sure what I expected," he stated with unfortunate admittance, silently hating just how very true that statement was, then dropped his hand back to the bottle in his lap.

Then something happened that Ian didn't expect, something that made his breath slow and his heart pulse with more intention, something that he didn't think had ever happened to him before at all. The way the other man was looking at him was hard to read, but it was soft still, looking at him in a way that made the flutters dance again, sending anxious little sparks popping and zipping through his skull. 

Mickey curled his hand within Ian's, securing their fingers together with an even firmer affectionate grasp, then reached over with his other to cover them both, those fingers lacing as well and his thumb softly stroked over pale, freckled skin. Then he leaned a little closer with the same beautifully shimmery glimmer in his eyes and his voice was low again. 

"I give a shit, man," he said quietly.

Green eyes blinked over a flicker, taken aback once again, even wondering for just an instant if this moment was real, if he was dreaming alone at home in his bed and wasn't actually here at all. He almost couldnt believe his ears as he slowly processed the other man's words, their deep, genuine meaning behind them or how Mickey's eyes looked into him as he'd said them, like there were few things he ever said that he meant so much. The dark haired man cared about him, apparently much more than Ian had understood before, but now there was no doubt. Maybe it was luck, or maybe it was fate, or maybe it was just a matter of fucking happenstance, but Ian didn't care. In this moment, there was nothing he wanted more, than Mickey. 

When the redhead moved to kiss him this time, he didn't hesitate and he didn't ask first, closing his eyes and leaning in to capture Mickey's lips with his own, willing them to say everything he didn't know how to aloud and show the man just how much he meant to him in return. It was a message of longing, a message of wanting, urge and need, of flourishing admiration, adoration and affection, a gesture of dedication and hope that between them there'd be more, that Mickey meant something to him too. In that kiss Ian gave his everything.

And Mickey kissed him back with just as much intention, pressing right against his mouth and parting his lips to caress his tongue against Ian's, with soft, breathy noises already flowing out from between them. Then he released Ian's hand, but only to clasp his own upon the back of his neck, pulling him in to taste him more deeply and the redhead shuddered as he wrapped his arm around the other man's waist to pull him closer as well. Fuck, it felt incredible. 

Ian leaned in more and so did Mickey, pressing their chests together with still dampened skin, the heat of their flesh mixing together with a rush. And then their other hands moved, Mickey's to Ian's leg with a strong, firm grip and the redhead's knocking their now forgotten bottle of booze into the pool as he reached over to grasp a palm onto the other man's chest. Their kisses grew harder and latched with more intensity quicker than either seemed to intend, but neither slowed or stopped either, the air between them heavy and thick with a mutual lustful need. They both just wanted it. 

The dark haired man moved his hand over from the back of Ian's neck, around to the side, then grasped a bit at his jaw to turn his face, before he mouthed his lips down to the crook where the redhead's neck met his shoulder and bit him, hard. The sharpness of the contact pushed a deep groany moan up Ian's throat that vibrated off the walls of shimmer with a bounce, causing Mickey to hold his teeth in place for a moment, then sucked a deep, red mark into the middle. Ian moaned again even deeper. 

Then the redhead lowered his hand more, letting it slide slowly and firmly down over the other man's muscles, rubbing over one of his pecs, then smoothing down along his ribs before landing on his hip with a tight, hard grasp. The gesture earned him an eager, breathy moan from the man now sucking a new tender spot into his neck, then felt his hand move up some, firmly gripping over the muscles in his thigh. Ian felt his breath shake again with just the slightest tremble, then dropped his face to begin speckling the other man's neck with kisses as well, pulling him even closer, unable to possibly feel him enough. And Mickey seemed to feel the same, dropping his other hand to wrap firmly around Ian's waist as well, letting it smooth up his back and over a shoulder blade, grasping at his skin again.

The shallow shelf of water swirled around them with a soft, wet swish as they embraced, molding themselves ever closer, their breaths growing harsher and laced more thickly with need. Mickey's hand moved higher and Ian's traveled lower, both wanting so very badly to touch the other and be touched further in return. The redhead moved his lips and tongue across the top of Mickey's shoulder before moving back to his neck, then sucked a fresh mark of his own right under his ear and it was that action that seemed to push the other man, seemed to urge and fuel him further. 

He lowered his face a bit more to plant a hard, wet kiss onto Ian's collarbone, squeezing the muscles on the top of his shoulder, then smoothed his other hand the rest of it's way up Ian's thigh and found his cock, hard and heavy between his legs. Both men pushed out little mumbled moans at the contact, speaking heavy, breathy whispers into each other's skin as Mickey's hand began to pump him, stroke him, feel him, and the redhead let his own hand drop, finding the other man's cock as well. The dark haired man groaned the softest, moany 'Fuck,' into the redhead's skin the instant Ian gripped him, exhaling shakily himself as the other man's palm closed firmly around his thickness and pulled. Ian began teasing the other man's earlobe with his tongue, but instead Mickey turned his face back toward him to indulge in his lips again.

Their mouths were rough and eager, but their hands were sure and intentful, both men quickly and easily falling into a steady, fluid motion, rubbing, grasping and stroking over each other's cocks and moaning softly, but deeply through each other's lips as they did. The dark haired man sank his fingernails into the other man's skin on his back and scratched a bit, his brow knitted together in the dark, earning him a chesty, pleasurable moan in return and Ian tugged on him a bit quicker. Then the redhead parted his lips more widely, the tips of their tongues sliding wetly over each others and their piercings clinked together with the slightest tingling touch, just before he bit down on Mickey's lip with a tease. 

Then Mickey opened his eyes, their bold blue within glossed heavily from the gesture, now gazing rather intently at him through the pitch, his hand slowing with another grip and the pad of his thumb rubbed so very slowly over the head of Ian's cock, offering a tease of his own. The redhead bit his own lip this time, gazing right back, then closed his eyes and kissed him again, softly, tenderly, absolutely loving the flavor of his lips, but was suddenly caught off guard when the other man pushed into it much harder than he thought he would. Ian's eyes fluttered back open, a bit confused for a second, then turned quite surprised, before the lust that'd drenched them began to course and flood through his irises. 

All of a sudden Mickey was moving, pressing his face and lips further into Ian's, then moved onto his knees with a further turn of his body, placing one of his legs on Ian's other side and was now straddling his lap. The dark haired man curled his tongue back through the other man's mouth, placing one hand on Ian's chest as the other lowered between them to grasp and stroke them off together, causing the other man to nearly melt as he let his palms smooth up Mickey's thighs to his hips with another firm grip. Ian was rather shocked at the unexpected change in position, but he wasn't questioning it, wasn't going to stop it, absolutely loving every single thing about it. 'Jesus fucking Christ,' he thought, 'This is fucking hot.'

Mickey kissed him deeper and Ian mirrored him, tilting his head up to purse his lips over the other man's pucker, before parting, opening and welcoming his tongue again, eager to quench the rising thirst within. His hands stayed firm and hard, moving back down, then up again, massaging the muscles of the other man's thighs as they flushed hard with blood and clung tight to his own. The dark haired man's hands kept moving too, one with a slick, wet grasp between them, making them both pant and moan and sigh, while the other grasped firmly back over Ian's peck, rubbing across his nipple ring, then curled back around his body. 

Every touch felt simply electric, coursing swiftly through Ian's veins with a high and a buzz stronger than any drink or smoke. It felt magical and surreal to be embraced with Mickey this way, in this place, like softly drifting about on some euphoric haze, deep within a sparkling fog, lost inside an entire galaxy of stars without any knowledge of any existence elsewhere. It was just them, only them, and more than ever before, it just felt perfect.

Ian glided his palms back up to Mickey's hips and squeezed again firmly, tightly, then slowly curled around his lower back as well, panting up against the other man's lips as his hand pulled them together with a slightly tighter slick, putting more friction against their cocks. Then the redhead began rock his hips just a bit, sliding his cock through Mickey's fist with urge, wanting more and his hands shifted downward just slightly, grasping at a clutch of tailbone. The action pushed a pleasurable moany hum through the other man's nose and he rolled his hips into Ian's movements, pushing his tongue more deeply into his mouth as he did. 

Then Ian's hands pressed tighter into the other man's back, lingering just above his ass, then slowly lowered only one, not only to test the waters with direct contact, but because the craving was just too great. He wanted to feel more of him. He wrapped his palm around a single, firm muscle, rubbing it firmly within his hand before caressing with a squeeze. And to the redhead's satisfaction and pleasure, Mickey reacted in much a way he'd wanted him to, letting a deep chesty groan nearly punch up his throat and vibrate through their kiss, enjoying it tremendously. 

So he did it again, even dropping his other palm to grab ahold of the other cheek, and let his fingers delve within the tender bulk of flesh, grasping, rubbing and keeping a tight grip. At the same time it seemed to set forth the softest melody of needy wanting noises from Mickey's tongue and throat, and his grasp around them readjusted, then pumped a bit more quickly. Then Ian squeezed once more, dipping his face away from Mickey's lips to mash wet, hot kisses into his chest, using his tongue and wanting to taste him, the flush of lust in his veins growing insanely overwhelming. The other man's lips parted with a breathy pant, dropping lust-glossed eyes to watch the other man do it, his breath shaking a bit and his skin trembled ever so slightly beneath the redhead's mouth.

"Fuck Ian," Mickey breathed in a whisper. 

He then smoothed his free hand up the redhead's back, sliding between his shoulder blades and moving over the back of his neck to lace his fingers through, soft red strands that looked almost black within the dark. He let the kisses spread and speckle for just a moment, moaning softly under each and every one, until he couldn't seem to take any more and grasped into Ian's scalp, giving it a firm, but gentle tug within his grip, urging him to raise his face. So he did, only to be met by twinkling eyes and swelling lips as Mickey instantly pushed back into kiss him again, like he just couldn't wait any longer. Ian moaned lightly into his mouth and the other man twisted his tongue more deeply as if longing for the very flavor of the sound. Their hips rocked together and their soft but needy noises mixed more thickly, more fluidly, the friction between them quickening and thickening through each and every stroke of Mickey's hand and Ian squeezed his ass again, earning him another moan. 

There was more Ian wanted to do, more he wanted to touch and massage and stimulate, even now in this moment, but didn't want to over step, didn't want to take the chance of spoiling it, of spoiling this. But he also seemed to be reading the other man pretty well so far and thought maybe he could drop a hint at the very least and see if it's accepted, hoping to very much that it would be. It was another urge and craving that Ian wanted so very badly to explore with Mickey and although he was nervous, he was also fairly sure the other man wouldn't turn him down if he tried. 

So, he moved one hand up a bit higher, the tips of long pale fingers stopping to pause near the top of the crease between the muscles of his ass, and grasped one with his other hand a bit tighter, pulling on him just slightly with hesitant questioning in his contact. But Mickey simply kissed him harder and more roughly, the fingers of one hand twisting through Ian's hair while the other continued to tug and jerk and pull at their cocks with a smooth, steady pump. 

"Fuckin' touch me, man," he urged with a pant and the other man didn't need to be told twice.

Ian's hand immediately dipped downward, tracing along the part of his ass even further until his fingertips found the tight, inviting heat within, beginning to rub ever so slightly. A much breathier, yet just as deeply pleasurable moan rolled up Mickey's throat at the contact and his hips suddenly rolled a bit more, first pumping his cock through the slick of his fist alongside Ian's, then pressed back into his hand just a bit, but mostly let the redhead keep that control, trusting him with it. And their lips melded back into tenderly intenful, yet roughly lustful kisses, all wet breaths and eager tongues with just the slightest pinch of teeth. 

The redhead's fingertips rubbed and caressed, pushing just slightly when he noticed how much Mickey seemed to enjoy a bit of pressure in his touches. His other hand gripped his ass tighter and spread him just a bit, unable to stop his hands and fingers from traveling further into the other man's forbidden depths. Then Ian pressed the pad of a single finger a bit harder into Mickey's heat, the water still swishing around them just high enough for him to use it against any friction and slowly began to massage him in small tight circles, enjoying the sounds the other man made as he did it. 

Mickey seemed to change just a bit as Ian started doing this, like he'd had some hidden, bottled wave of intensity and pleasure locked away somewhere inside and suddenly there was a crack, a break and a slip, practically growling through a moan as the other man touched him, like perhaps he hadn't been touched in quite a long time. And the redhead swallowed the other man's moan as it punched out along his tongue, rubbing his fingers a bit faster, pressing them a little harder, then rolled his hips back up to meet Mickey's, their cocks sliding together inside a tight tattooed fist.

Ian moved a single hand from his grip of round, lean muscle back to the other man's hip, savoring the sensation of the Mickey's lips and tongue still moving so effortlessly with his own, then exhaled another lusty moan when he felt more fingers still threading softly through his hair with a grasp. Then the same hand moved back down his spine, then around onto his chest, with a single thumb gliding roughly over the piercing in his nipple, tingling it with a spark of sensitivity. He exhaled a bit from the contact and gripped his hip a little tighter. Every touch just felt amazing. 

Then the redhead took a chance to go a little further and began to circle and caress his fingertips into the other man with a little more pressure, a little more intent, wanting so very badly to feel him from the inside, pushing just a bit to see if Mickey would let him. But almost instantly, he reacted, moaning softly from the touch and pressed his ass back into Ian's hand, giving him plenty of permission. Ian grasped his palm into the man's flesh a bit tighter, smoothing it up toward his ribs, and with the other, pressed his finger further through Mickey's tight, wanting heat and began moving it inside him.

Mickey punched out another deep, groany moan as his tongue curled over Ian's, then bit down on the redhead's lower lip with a hazy, knitted expression, as his fist pumped harder between them and the fingernails on the other slipped from Ian's hair and returned to his back with a quick, sharp scratch. The other man moaned and pushed his finger deeper, then began to press and pull more quickly, intently massaging every curve and ridge of nerves he touched. Their lips parted and their eyes met for just an instant in the dark with mirrored want and longing, then let their tongues connect again over an exhale before trapping them back behind their lips. 

"Mickey," Ian whispered lowly against his mouth, his eyes fluttering back closed. 

The dark haired man hummed in response, then leaned forward more to hold their chests together, still softly and slowly gliding his hips back to meet Ian's finger as it twisted further inside his ass, but repositioned the hand between them to grasp only Ian now, not seeming to want or need any stimulation on his own cock any more. The redhead gasped a bit, feeling the man's palm grasp him more directly and began to pump his cock again, urging him to speed up his own hand a bit, pushing his finger inside of Mickey a bit harder, then began teasing his entrance with a second. 

The other man moaned a bit louder, his sounds of lust and pleasure beginning to roll and ring off the dazzles and shimmers that covered the walls around them, pulsing them around within the space. Mickey twisted his grasp on Ian's cock with a slick of water, and stroked him quicker as he felt him push more firmly with another finger, but not quite slip inside, causing him to moan quite needingly with anticipation. The redhead smiled slightly against his lips, then nudged his face over with his nose to regain access to Mickeys neck, sucking a tender, purple mark into his skin, as his other hand obliged and added a second finger.

Another groany, moany grunt pushed through Mickey's lips and Ian's couldn't stop the moan that slipped through his own, feeling how hot and slick and tight he was, imaging what he'd feel like wrapped around his cock instead of his fingers, how fucking amazing it would be. The thought quickly fueled him, coaxed him, tempted him, then slid one palm back down Mickey's ribs, pausing where his leg met his hip and gripped the bone like an anchor as long, thin fingers on his other pushed into him harder, more roughly, wanting to hear how different Mickey sounds the fuller he gets. 

His breath rose more heavily and his skin trembled again, but his noises stayed constant, each and every moan and groan flooding over his tongue to mix with Ian's as he moved his ass back onto the other man's fingers, meeting them wantingly with every single push. He matched the rhythm in his fist as well, pumping and stroking over Ian's thick, long cock to mirror his fingers and Ian kept his hips moving, fucking into Mickey's hand with the same speed as well. Then the dark haired man raised his hand again, whisping his fingerstips back along his scalp and gripped again, causing Ian to look up and instantly embrace his lips, needing them.

Then Ian pushed his fingers in even further, as deeply as he could manage from their angle and suddenly brushed a spot that seemed to sent a jolt of sparks right up Mickey's spine, almost jumping a bit and the moan that flowed off from his tongue in the same instant sounded a little higher, a little more sensative, like Ian just happened to find a very particular spot that he hadn't expected him to. His actions became a little more forceful, a little more hastly, grasping the other man back tightly as he sucked and bit into his lips, their kisses growing harsher and Ian pumped his fingers, finding it again. 

Mickey's lips trembled against his skin with his brow still drawn together and his eyes closed tight, and he just kept stroking Ian's cock, speeding up with the man's fingers, each and every brush or bump atop that bundle of nerves inside him drawing out another moan that sounded like he simply ached for it. They kept that rhythm but only for a few minutes before Mickey got even louder, both their bodies flushed hot and each man only wanted more, seemed to need it. 

Then the dark haired man gripped his hand tightly within Ian's hair and pulled his head back, his other finally releasing his grip as his cock began to throb pleasurably from all the attention, then smoothed it roughly up his chest, over his neck and grasped his jaw tightly as he spoke against his lips.

"Get the fuck up," Mickey directed with a hazy, lusty growl in his voice. The other man's eyes fluttered open to look at him, gasping a bit, but creased his brow as well. 

"What?" Ian breathed with a pant, "Why?" he asked. 

The other man leaned back, slipping the redhead's fingers from his ass and stood, pulling Ian with him as he went, his movements craving and eager, almost rushed. When the redhead rose, Mickey instantly grabbed both his hands, pulling the other man back into him for a rough, wet kiss, leading him out of the water and toward the other end of the cave. He grasped at his flesh, and spoke against his lips. 

"Too much fuckin' echo in here," Mickey replied with haste, his breath and tone still deep and heavy, "Too fuckin' dark," he added, then broke their kiss for just an instant to gaze into his eyes, before trailing them down over his body through the pitch, "I wanna see you," he breathed with need.

Ian nodded his approval, wanting to see him too and let Mickey grasp his hand once more and lead him away. They crossed a short space toward one of the walls when the redhead noticed another little pool alongside it, clearly just as deep, and appeared to flow out beneath the rock. He shot the other man a questioning expression who didn't stop or pause, walking him right over, ready to jump in. The dark haired man met his eyes and gave his head a flick. 

"Hold your breath and swim, man," he said. 

Then together they plunged back in, Mickey keeping his hand in Ian's as they swam together below about a ten foot stretch of stone, then burst through the surface on the other side. As they met the air and sucked in a breath, their rush to embrace was almost instant again, pulling at limbs and kicking through the water, just trying to stay afloat as they did, kissing deeply and intently once more. The moon lit up their flesh and faces, neither seemingly able to stop gazing now, wanting to take in every inch of wet, naked skin along the other's body, slowly revealing more as their feet found the sand beneath the water. 

"I want you," Mickey moaned into his mouth, "Now," he said. 

The redhead nodded, moaning himself at the admission, then leaned back forward to embrace him again with the very same rush, wanting him just as much, and was more than anxious to have him, feel him, be inside him, finally. He groaned into his lips, and they moved a bit faster, needing to get to land like they needed a breath of air. 

But then for just a second as Ian kissed him, his arms wrapped back around his body, sliding down Mickey's back to grasp his ass again, he glanced past him, seeing the approaching shore ahead. This side was much more open than the last, hugging the treeline, but had no stones, bushes or downed logs for cover. He peered out a bit further, also noticing the faintest scattering of bonfires far off within the woods and suddenly thought he ought to say something, just to be sure. Mickey kept pulling him, leading him, taking him closer to land and out of the water when Ian tried to break their kiss just enough to speak. 

"Uh, Mick?" he managed, and the other man only hummed in return, much more focused on pulling and kissing him more than anything else, but Ian still tried, "Someone might see us," informed Ian, but Mickey only kissed him harder. 

"I don't care," he replied, the rush, want and haste still heavy in his tone. 

The redhead moaned just a bit at the words, the sound being swallowed up behind Mickey's tongue, finding the man's response to be quite the turn on. But then he thought of something else that was probably worth mentioning, even though Ian didn't necessarily mind, he wasn't so sure about his companion. He kissed him back, then tried to part their lips again for a second. 

"We don't have a condom," Ian noted, but Mickey's motions didn't stop, even offering a very sure, insistent head shake. 

"I don't fuckin' care," he repeated more firmly, as they neared even closer to the shore, still clearly intent on using the man's mouth for kissing now, not for talking, but Ian still felt the need to mention just one more thing.

"I'm clean," he offered suddenly, which made Mickey pause for just a second, lean his face back to look at him, then chuckled slightly.

"Good to fuckin' know, man," he replied with a rather amused grin and single chin nod, "Me too," Mickey added quickly, then instantly resumed his movements, kissing Ian roughly on his lips and kept leading him from the water.

The redhead smiled a small muffled laugh against their kiss and conceded, letting Mickey take him, grasp him, pull him back into his body as the water sank around their knees and their still-hardened cocks slid back together with a hot, wet friction, pushing a moan out of both of them. Then as Ian dropped his hands back over the other man's ass with a squeeze, he suddenly thought of something else that he wasn't quite sure about. 

The dark haired man knew that Ian was primarily a top and from what Mickey had told Ian, he was primarily a bottom. And especially after getting things started inside the cave they'd just left, Ian had a pretty good idea already what their arrangement now would be, but he didn't want to completely assume either, as much as he wanted it or not. He let his palms rub wide over each thick, round muscle of the other man's ass, then spoke breathily against his lips once more. 

"How did you wanna-?" Ian began, but his voice was immediately cut off by a much more eager one. 

"Fuck me," Mickey breathed deeply, his tone rough and sure, then pushed his tongue back into Ian's mouth.

Ian pushed a deep, groaning moan into the other man's mouth, hardly able to control his hands or his mouth as the other man's urge of consent sent a heated flow of blood pumping through his limbs and filled his cock even more than he thought it could manage. He felt himself throb against Mickey's girth and rolled his hips forward to feel him better as their ankles kicked through the tide. Then their hands rushed, their teeth and lips clashed and it made their feet fumble, sending them crashing down into the edge of the lake with a shallow, sandy splash.

Immediately, there were hands and limbs, teeth and tongues absolutely everywhere, Ian instantly crawling over Mickey's body to press his weight down on him, molding his back into the sand and gliding his hands up his legs, over his waist and onto his ribs, holding him there. The other man's hands traveled as well, but from the top down, moving from Ian's hair and neck, down over his chest then gripped tightly over his hips as the redhead settled between his legs. Their kisses stayed strong and passionate as their hearts began to pulse together and another soft, loving melody of subtle breaths and gaspy moans fluttered away from them up into the air. And in this moment, it felt like so much more.

Ian wrapped his lips more firmly around Mickey's, then pushed his tongue deeper to taste him again, every little movement reciprocated from the man beneath him, until his hands moved up a bit further and his mouth began to move down, parting their embrace. He then began trailing hard, hungry kisses down the side of the man's neck, onto his chest, bit down on a rib, then moved lower still. Then the redhead took him in his mouth, sliding his hard hot girth over his tongue and down his throat, causing the other man to lift his head to watch him, biting his lip to stifle a moan as he did. Ian pulled his lips back, then sunk his head down further with a hum, just as a gentle grasp of fingertips threaded through his hair. 

"Ian," Mickey moaned heavily, trying to get his attention, then gripped his hand within his hair a little harder, "Ian," he tried again more insistently, urging the other man to listen and look at him, which he finally did, slowing a bit, but not pausing, "You don't gotta fuckin' do that, man," he said, but the redhead disagreed, dropping a single hand down low to trace up the crease of the other man's ass, and lifted his face for just an instant. 

"Yes I do," Ian countered, then pushed two long, rough fingers back inside Mickey without any warning to prepare, wanting to stretch him more so he wouldn't risk injuring him with his cock and wrapped his lips back around him again. 

Mickey instantly groaned out a thick, throaty moan, every muscle in his body tensing for an instant before slowly relaxing a little more as Ian's fingers and mouth moved on him with such rigorous intention. And Ian sucked slickly up and down his length with every push and pull of his fingers, swallowing around him, twisting his wrist and moaning around him when the action quickly began to make Mickey's insides pulse ever so slightly. Then his fingers happen to find that very same bundle of nerves as before, rubbing over the sensative sweet spot with a sudden brush of contact, causing the other man to moan a little louder, spread his legs a little wider and his hand grasped tight within his hair. 

"Ian," Mickey's voice breathed again, a bit more trembly this time, a bit more pleading, causing the other man to lift his face again, then met his eyes with a glossy, fluttery blink, "Get the fuck up here," he said and ran the tip of a craving tongue across his lip.

The redhead slowed his movements as their eyes stayed locked for a moment, then he stopped, slipping his fingers out from the other man's heat, having only had the chance to get him slightly prepared, but didn't question him, knowing what he wanted instead, what he needed. He then pulled Mickey's cock from between his lips with a slow, circling suck and curl of his tongue, before he dipped his face once more to kiss the soft, tender skin of his hips, much more gently. Ian moved them back up the trail they'd left behind, every press and pucker meaningful and caring, taking his time a bit now, wanting to savor, not to rush. 

When he reached Mickey's lips again, the movements were the same, softer, more tender and slower than before, each seemingly wanting to relish every moment of contact between them now. Hands and fingers smoothed over skin and grasped at hair as their mouths moved and melted together yet again, saying more unsaid words and emotions just like they had before, shivers, sparks and flames bursting up from within and swarming the air around them. Ian had never known anyone that'd made him feel this way, so strongly, so intensely, with such unrelenting longing as Mickey did and there was nothing else like it. 

Then the dark haired man grasped the redhead's body with the thick, strong muscles of his thighs, then opened them wider, pulling his body closer down onto him with his hands, grasping at his hips, his ribs, his shoulders, no longer wanting to wait. And Ian reciprocated as their mouths stayed together, sliding one arm down to wrap a palm around the back of the man's leg, then placed his other at the base of his own cock, rolling his hips to rut against him, earning him another chesty, eager moan of wanting anticipation from Mickey. Then he sighed quite lustfully, gazing up into his eyes as his tongue slid over Ian's lip and the very tip of the redhead's cock began rubbing against the tight, hot opening of his ass with just a bit of pressure, teasing his body again.

"Fuck, yes," Mickey whispered in a breathy, aroused tone, even pushing his own ass down against his cock some, rolling his hips to match the redhead's movements, which only spurred the man above him on even more. 

Ian absolutely loved how responsive Mickey was, even already and they'd barely begun yet, every little sound or slightest noise of praise churning the flutters within, fueling the rush inside his veins and simmering the heat within his loins, unable to stop wanting more. This was already so much more intense and amazing than Ian ever thought it could be, wanting to relish, savor and remember every single detail, to take it all in as much as he could. This was going to be a night that he'd never, ever forget, a night that would forever be etched into the back of his mind no matter what else ever happens between them and he knew it, wanted it, welcomed it without restraint. This night was going to change things for him in one way or another. 

He placed another kiss against Mickey's lips, then moved his hand from his leg, propping it onto his elbow within the sand, then lifted himself onto his palm, moving more onto his knees, the other still gripping his cock and pushing teasingly against the other man's heat. Their dampened skin shimmered beneath the moonlight with a soft delicate shine, glistening Ian's muscles as he moved in small, slow circles, his eyes dropped down to gaze as the contact between them. Then the redhead felt the grasp of a palm smoothing up over his muscles with a silent, gripping praise around each and every one, causing him to glance back up to Mickey's face, seeing him biting his lip and looking at him with a heavy drape of lust and appeal. 

"So fuckin' sexy," he breathed quietly with admiration, his eyes so incredibly soft and gentle, so open.

Ian looked at him, wondering if perhaps Mickey hadn't actually intended to say that aloud, but he didn't look embarrassed or ashamed, crystal blue eyes tracing the muscles of his abs and chest back up to his face with a heavily hooded gaze and curled his tongue behind his lip. The redhead let the slightest hint of a smirk pull at the corner of his mouth, his heart and head fluttering a bit at the compliment, then rolled his hips again slightly harder, watching Mickey's face contort with pleasure. He moaned from the press and pushed his ass down against the pressure but Ian kept control and didn't let him become penetrated just yet. Mickey groaned again more deeply, more loudly, with an almost pleading tone in his voice. 

"You're fuckin' killin' me, man," he moaned out desperately, causing the other man to concede just a bit and push his cock into him further, pressing past the pressure to squeeze just the head inside of him with a quick, tight slip.

The action caused the other man to suddenly sink his teeth further into his lip, clinking them against his piercing as he did, trying to muffle another, much louder moan and he bent his knees some to frame the man above him better. The dark haired man gripped his palms tightly around Ian's hips, and let his eyes fall again to watch his body as his waist moved in small, smooth circles, trying to open him up with his cock. His breath immediately fell heavy again, with more pleasurable moans rolling and popping off his tongue, and his body slowly let the redhead in just a little deeper. 

Ian moaned through his breaths as well, unable to stay quiet at how intense the other man's body felt as he dipped the head of his cock in and out of him, pushing just slightly more to fill him with more of it, slowly but surely. Then as he pressed into his pump a little more, just barely moving a bit faster, feeling him begin to stretch and let him in, he noticed Mickey's limbs began to tremble and shake ever so slightly, with his brow drawn together and his eyes clamped shut. The redhead creased his own brow, suddenly feeling a bit concerned as he slowed for just a second and smoothed a single palm soothingly over the other man's chest. 

"I'm not hurting you, am I?" Ian queried softly, not having such an intention at all, but the dark haired man instantly opened his eyes at the question, arching an eyebrow for a second, but then almost at once offered him a very reassuring smirk. 

"Only in the best fuckin' way," Mickey replied with a head shake, which relaxed the man above him quite a bit, relieved, and even getting him to smirk back a bit in return, as his movements steadily resumed. But then Mickey grasped one of his hip bones a little harder, as the other slid down a bit and gripped firmly over the muscle in his thigh. 

"More," he pleaded softly, pulling on him just a bit. 

The redhead did as he asked, still careful to stay slow and gentle, watching Mickey's face as he did, pushing just enough to feel his insides grow tight again, still needing to be stretched and set his hips back into the same patient, rolling circles, tentatively urging himself in further. He then put his other palm on the ground with sand grasping through his fingers, then slid further down onto his elbows to curl his body back over Mickey's wanting to kiss and touch him while they started fucking gently and slowly with no more need to rush. Each gentle pump of his cock and rock of hips, steadily began coaxing Mickey's body to open more and as each thrust was pressed a bit deeper, the gasps and moans between them intensified steadily as well, their sounds and breaths quickly blending together within their own private haze.

Ian laced the fingers of a single hand through soft, dark strands of pitch that shone a slick, dampened blue in the starlight, then moved the other to his neck, holding his jaw as their lips opened together once again and their tongues mingled and danced with their same familiar twist. He then ran it down over his chest, along his ribs and down to his thigh to hold him better as he thrust a bit more deeply, still slowly making his way further inside of Mickey with more than half of his cock filling him already, but still not completely, being patient with his body.

The redhead was really starting to think he was correct in the thought that the other man really hadn't been with anyone else this way in quite a long time. But it only seemed to make Ian want him all the more, knowing that the man was obviously very particular in his partners, yet obviously liked Ian enough to choose him. The realization quickly gave Ian just another one of many reasons to want to make this good for Mickey, good for both of them and curled his tongue a little more tenderly as they kissed, held him a little closer as he fucked him and began to speed his thrusts up just a little bit.

The other man's voice rose a little higher in his moans as he did, but seemed to enjoy it, even shifting his hand up from Ian's leg and onto his ass, grasping firmly at the muscles and trying to pull him in, urging him to fill him up and bottom out. The redhead moaned heavily at the action and snapped his hips with a single thrust that had much more force, the remainder of his cock surging sharply into Mickey's ass and he gasped on a hitch of breath, biting his lip over a rather loud moan, letting his legs open more. Green eyes moved down over him, trailing down over his muscles, admiring the the other man's thick, hard cock, then looked back into his face, not wanting to miss any change in expression, too fucking beautiful to look away from for long anyway. 

Fuck, Ian really wished this could last forever, wanting it to so very badly. The way Mickey looks while he's being fucked, so raw and hard and primal, as well as the way he sounds, the noises he makes when Ian pumps and thrusts into him like nothing else had ever filled him with such intense and overwhelming pleasure, like he couldn't possibly have enough. Mickey was almost like a fucking drug; He was simply addicting, the way his hands grasped at him, clung to him with such unreserved wanting and the way his insides pulsed and quaked with every snap of the redhead's hips, erupting even more when his cock suddenly found that special, secret spot inside much more directly than his fingers had. The dark haired man's moans rose higher again, his chin tipping up just a bit as he punched out a hard, sharp moan from the brush of contact within.

"You feel so fuckin' good," praised Mickey not quite able to open his eyes, "Fuck me so good," he added through a moan, his hands sliding up to massage every muscle in his back and the redhead hummed as he kissed into the flesh of his neck, the words sending another course of sparks shooting through his veins. 

"You feel good too," Ian whispered back, moaning softly through his thrusts, "You feel fucking amazing," he rephrased with breathy, lustful surety, wanting the other man to know just how much he meant it, "Perfect," he said.

Mickey turned his face back down and managed to open his eyes, connecting them with Ian's and brought one hand to the side of his face, gently pulling him closer to kiss him again, his tongue passing between his lips to tickle the redhead's piercing, then closed them with another rough, wet pucker. His thumb brushed softly across the redhead's cheekbone, then slid further back, into his hair and grasped his scalp to devour him better, moaning from the other man's thrusts as he did, then spoke needingly against his mouth. 

"Harder," Mickey urged, with a tone straight from his chest, then hooked his ankles around the backs of the redhead's knees and grasped a tattooed hand back over a thick, firm ass muscle with direction, earning him an eager, anxious groan in return.

So, Ian kissed him back and did exactly that, shifting his legs in the sand a bit to readjust his angle, then began sliding his cock in and out of him with a much more forceful thrust, the water around them swishing roughly against the tide. He clasped one hand around the back of Mickey's neck for leverage as he moved and the dark haired man got loud as Ian's cock began plowing into him with much more strength and intention. His breath punched out against his lips and his teeth clashed into their kiss as the redhead's long, thick cock began viciously rubbing back over the same tender, sensative spot inside as before, poking and prodding with his head, then pushing past it to let it pulse along his shaft.

Then the redhead moaned too, and their hands found each others, palms gripping, grasping and grabbing tight, with fingers spreading, lacing and twisting back together within the sand. Every inch of skin tingled and buzzed beneath a surging swarm of flutters and flames, wrapping around their bodies and bounding them together as the slick of their connection began clapping together lightly with a smack. The dark haired man moaned, groaned and shuddered, speckles of goosebumps scattering along his skin and his muscles flushed hard again, still rocking his own hips to meet the other man's, trying to take as much of his cock as he could.

Every pump and thrust felt amazing, exhilarating, absolutely fucking mind boggling as Ian filled him, stretched him, pumped his cock inside him, feeling every rib and ridge and curve of the other man's insides still pulsing with heat from within, and he felt his balls begin to flood with the slightest, softest tingle that made his breath stutter just a bit. He didn't want to finish yet, but he didn't want to slow either, instead breaking a single hand from Mickey's to reach down and grasp the back of his thigh, lifting it some, then pushing it back, thrusting into him at a wider, tighter angle and simply relished the loud, lip-bitten moan that poured through the other man's lips as he did. Ian just fucking loved how Mickey sounded. 

But then the same tingle arose once more, swirling within his balls and lingering at the base of his cock and he creased his brow with a bit more focus, determined to last longer. Though as Ian thrusted into Mickey's ass with a hard, sharp, snap, and his movements were more direct and steady, each and every time he'd hit the spot that made the dark haired man tremble and grasp more tightly at his body, he just couldn't seem to control himself. He would moan louder and his limbs would shudder and shake just a bit, appearing as though he were already on the verge himself and was trying to hold out as well. So the redhead took a chance and tried to find out, moaning against Mickey's mouth as he spoke. 

"I'm so fucking close already," Ian admitted in a deep, moaning pant, rolling his hips into the same steady snap, the lingering of release still teetering along the edge, then dropped his face just a bit to peer down at where his cock met Mickey's ass with a quick, tight slick, "You still just feel so," he trailed off a bit as another little melody of moans took him for a moment, "Fuck," breathed Ian. Mickey nodded through hooded eyes and a knitted brow, still moaning very openly with every single thrust and slid a hand down the redhead's back, keeping his body close on top of his. 

"Me too, man," Mickey agreed with a shaky voice, his tone still as flushed as his flesh was, "So fuckin' close," he mirrored, "Not gonna fuckin' last," he said. 

At that, Ian leaned his chest away from Mickey's just slightly and reached a single hand down to grasp a wide, freckled palm around the other man's throbbing, leaking cock, but was stopped by a firm, yet soft hand on his sternum. Green eyes flashed up to meet blue and saw the other man give a head shake. 

"No," directed Mickey, then lowered his hand to grasp Ian's and move it away, pulling him back close and gazing deeply up into his eyes, sparkling, shimmering irses showing the meaning of his words, "Just wanna feel you," he said as the tip of his tongue slid across his lip and curled behind his cheek, his gaze growing a bit darker and more glossy for just an instant, "Hard," he emphasized deeply.

Ian blinked down at him, forced a-mute by the dancing, floating swarm of flutters that suddenly clogged inside his throat and almost immediately pushed forth his mouth to kiss him, taste him, embrace him, letting it speak for him once again, letting his passion and longing for the man ripple off his tongue as it moved so very easily alongside Mickey's. The dark haired man curled his hands inside Ian's, coating their palms with sand as they pressed them more firmly into the ground to anchor them both. Then the redhead held nothing back and began snapping his hips with a pound, brutally laying into the man beneath him.

Mickey's face instantly creased thick, almost struggling not to clamp his eyes shut from the instant rush of intense pressure and pleasure the redhead's cock sent coursing through his insides and moaned loudly with a deep animalistic growl just before he moved his mouth away from Ian's, biting along his jaw until he found his neck to sink his teeth into a rather sensitive spot of pale, freckled flesh. Ian let out a rather loud groan of his own in response, his pelvis smacking against the man as hard and as quick as could manage, plunging and pounding his cock deep inside his ass, making Mickey melt even further with each and every thrust, pushing the man closer toward release as he simultaneously chased his own right along with him.

There were grasps against flesh, hair and sand, fingernails scratching along hot, dampened skin, along with teeth and lips and tongues anywhere else they could reach. Limbs twisted together and hands intertwined as breaths flushed and fogged against bodies that glistened beneath the stars and moved quickly, roughly, harshly against the shallow shimmering waves and ripples that flowed and swirled around their waists and legs. Everything was rising, building, beginning to erupt and both men moved as one, fucking each other with everything they had. Then the redhead pressed a needy moany kiss into the flesh of the other man's shoulder as he felt the tingle suddenly overwhelm his loins, flood down over his cock and his balls pulled up tight with a powerful urge of burst. 

"Mick, I-," Ian stuttered on a heavy breath, speaking against his skin, "I'm gonna-," he moaned, but the other man simply combed his fingers through the back of his hair with a rough, but gentle grasp and spoke deeply against his ear. 

"Inside," Mickey breathed out slowly with a thick lust drenched haze in his tone like he really, really wanted it and Ian just couldn't hold out any longer, the other man's direction sending him right over the edge, shooting off like a star. 

He hardly lasted through a few more thrusts, finding Mickey's lips again with his own as he did, then felt his cock pulse inside the wanting quake of the other man's ass and began erupting deep inside him in long, hard spurts, moaning roughly into their kiss through his pumps. And in the same instant Mickey's body seemed to match him, follow him, the sensation of the redhead's cock throbbing and filling him being more than enough to send him over the edge of release as well, moaning out tiny grunts and curses through his spurts between them and held him close to his body, limbs trembling again. 

Ian slowed as his balls emptied, and Mickey's legs wrapped around him a little tighter, tiny breathy moans still escaping him now from the sensitivity of Ian still moving, but didn't stop him either, just waited for him to be done as if he actually enjoyed that too. The redhead leaned his face back and exhaled the softest pant, his mind still hazy from his orgasm and moved his hips into one last little circle, just to savor the last little moan that pushed out of Mickey because of it, then pulled out very slowly, gently, the other man letting out just the slightest final groan from the absence.

As soon as he pulled out, he wasn't sure if he should rise or stay atop him, unsure of what the other man would want, but didn't have to wonder long, the man beneath him instantly moving to wrap his arms more firmly around his back, seemingly answering his unsaid query, nothing else needing to be said now at all. Then their eyes met again, staying connected with another lock and Ian pulled him closer as well, curling long, freckled arms around his body to hold him close against him, to feel the other man's body against his own for just a little longer. 

The redhead just wanted to gaze down into his face a little longer as well, into his eyes, tracing over his features, admiring and memorizing every single little one, not wanting to ever forget how he looks like this right now. Mickey really was something amazing and incredible, and even now within their clearing lust and lingering haze, laying still and together within the water, within the sand, he'd never felt so sure about anything else in his life than he was about the man who was with him right now. Ian had no doubt that whatever this was with Mickey was more than just some fling, more than just a whim, it was so much fucking more. This was real.

So Ian just looked for a moment and Mickey looked back, the redhead wondering if the other man had anything similar on his mind, until his eyes met his lips, then other man's did as well, causing them both to move into a soft, slow kiss, just one last time. He then moved his face back just enough to speak, still gazing deeply into Mickey's eyes as he did, whispering gently and low. 

"You know how fucking incredible you are, Mickey?" Ian queried softly, "Like how seriously fucking amazing?" he asked, but the other man just let a light, amused chuckle slip from his lips. 

"Shut the fuck up," Mickey countered with no heat, smirking handsomely into his face, then arched a sharp pointed eyebrow at him, "You're the one that did all the fuckin' work anyway," he noted. Ian chuckled as well, then smirked back with an arched eyebrow of his own. 

"Not what I fucking meant and you know it," said Ian. The other man held his smirk, blue eyes twinkling delicately between green and he lightly tipped his chin. 

"Well, you ain't too fuckin' bad yourself, man," replied Mickey.

Ian smiled, and lifted a single hand to thread his fingers through the other man's hair, just wanting to touch him, to show him the affection and care he wanted to give him and thought he deserved and Mickey let him, seeming to enjoy the touch. Then he raised a hand as well, back to Ian's cheek much like before, then slid up to move moonlit red hair still slicked wet with water out from his eyes with a shine and smiled just a bit as well. 

Then redhead blinked and remembered that even though it was nighttime, they were still quite exposed and not horribly far from the festival, so it may be best to move soon. He didn't want to rush this moment, still lightly floating in their little drift, but they still had to travel back along the shore to claim their clothes before they could even dress and figured it best to do as soon as possible. He twisted his fingers more tenderly through wet strands of pitch, then took a short, quick glance up before turning his eyes back down to address Mickey. 

"We should probably go find our clothes," Ian suggested lightly and the other man simply nodded, agreeeing, but neither moved just yet, lingering another moment. Then the redhead chewed his lip a bit and arched another eyebrow, "Then what do you wanna do?" he asked, "Go see a show? Go smoke?" Ian queried further and Mickey just smiled with humor at his indecision to either stay or move, then looked into his eyes in a very particular way, but with the very same handsome smirk still pulling at his lips. 

"I just wanna fuckin' be with you, man," he said, seemingly referring to so much more than just the festival, and the other man's breath slowed with another clog of flutters. 

Ian blinked, but smiled even wider, his heart beating so much harder and faster than he thought it ever had, utterly speechless and astounded that all of this was real, that he was here and met someone like Mickey, someone he didn't know he needed until he had him. And now he didn't think could go without him, never wanting to be away from him or give him up if he could help it. Now he knew for sure that there would be more, that there is more, now and even long after Warp Fest ends. The other man had made it more than clear and Ian wanted nothing more himself.

He peered over his face again, letting another swarm and rush of delicate airy flutters continue swirling through his chest and he curled his fingers lightly against his scalp with a softly gentle affection, looking through his irises even more longingly than before. 

"I just wanna be with you too, Mickey," said Ian, meaning those words more than he could possibly explain, not sure if he'd ever meant anything nearly as much. 

And the redhead was going to hold his truth to that statement, determined to see this all through to the end, no matter what it took.


End file.
